Miscellaneous  Books, 

Government  Publications, 

Washington,  D.  C. 


<F? 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


WILMER  COLLECTIOI 


'y^H2^c/  ^yU/iftfrrk 


T.B.Peterson  &  Bros. 

PHILADELPHIA. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


NOVEL 


OF 


NEW  YORK  AND  THE  ARMY, 


18    6    2 


By    HENRY  MORFORD. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

T.    B.    PETERSON   &   BROTHERS, 
306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


PREFACE 


Several  months  have  necessarily  elapsed  since  the 
V,  commencement  of  this  narration.  Within  that  time 
many  and  rapid  changes  have  occurred,  both  in  national 
situation  and  in  private  character.  As  a  consequence, 
there  may  be  several  words,  in  earlier  portions  of  the 
story,  that  would  not  have  been  written  a  few  months 
later.  The  writer  has  preferred  not  to  make  any  changes 
in  original  expression,  but  to  set  down,  instead,  in  refer- 
ences, the  dates  at  which  certain  portions  of  the  work  were 
written.  In  one  instance  important  assistance  has  been 
derived  from  a  writer  of  ability  and  much  military  ex- 
perience; and  that  assistance  is  thankfully  acknowledged 
in  a  foot-note  to  one  of  the  appropriate  chapters.  Some 
readers  may  be  disappointed  not  to  find  a  work  more  ex- 
tensively military,  under  such  a  title  and  at  this  time ; 
but  the  aim  of  the  writer,  while  giving  glances  at  one 
or  two  of  our  most  important  battles,  has  been  chiefly  to 
present  a  faithful  picture  of  certain  relations  in  life  and 
society  which  have  grown  out,  as  side-issues,  from  the 
great  struggle.  At  another  time  and  under  different  cir- 
cumstances, the  writer  might  feel  disposed  to  apologize 

15 


16  PREFACE. 

for  the  great  liberty  of  episode  and  digression,  taken 
with  the  story;  but  in  the  days  of  Victor  Hugo  and 
Charles  Beade,  and  at  a  time  when  the  text  of  the 
preacher  in  his  pulpit,  and  the  title  of  a  bill  in  a  legisla- 
tive body,  are  alike  made  the  threads  upon  which  to 
string  the  whole  knowledge  of  the  speaker  upon  every 
subject, — such  an  apology  can  scarcely  be  necessary.  It 
should  be  said,  in  deference  to  a  few  retentive  memories, 
that  two  chapters  of  this  story,  now  embraced  in  the 
body  of  the  work,  were  originally  written  for  and  pub- 
lished in  the-  Continental  Monthly,  last  fall,  the  publication 
of  the  whole  work  through  that  medium,  at  first  designed, 
being  prevented  by  a  change  of  management  and  a  con- 
tract mutually  broken. 

New  York  Citt,  July,  1863. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Two  Friends — Walter  Lane  Harding  and  Tom  Leslie — Merchant  and 
Journalist — A  Torn  Dress  and  a  Stalwart  Champion — Tom  Leslie's 
Story  of  Dexter  Ralston' — Three  Moetings — An  Incident  on  the 
Potomac — The  Inauguration  of  Lincoln — A  Warning  of  the  Vir- 
ginia Secession — Governmental  Blindness — Friend  or  Foe  to  the 
Union? 23 

CHAPTER  II. 
Richard  Crawford  and  Josephine  Harris — The  Invalid  and  the  Wild 
Madonna — An  Odd  Female  Character  and  a  Temptation — Dis- 
couragement and  Consolation — Miss  Joe  Harris  on  the  Character 
of  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford — A  Suggestion  of  Hatred  and  Murder 
— A  New  Agony  for  the  Invalid — A  Lady  with  an  Attachment  to 
Cerise  Ribbon 41 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  Scene  at  Judge  Owen's — Mother  and  Daughter — Pretty  Emily  with 
One  Lover  Too  Many — Emily's  Determination,  and  Judge  Owen's 
Ultimatum — A  Pompous  Judge  playing  Grand  Signeur  in  his  own 
Family — Aunt  Martha  to  the  Rescue — Her  Story  of  Marriage 
without  Love,  Wedded  Misery  and  Outrage — How  Old  is  Colonel 
John  Boadley  Bancker,  and  what  is  the  Character  of  Frank 
Wallace? CO 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Harding  and  Leslie  make  Discoveries  on  Prince  Street — Seccsh  Flags  and 
Emblems  of  the  Golden  Circle — What  do  they  mean? — Tom  Leslie 
takes  a  Climb  and  a  Tumble — The  Red  Woman — A  Carriage  Chase 
Up-town — A  Mysterious  House — Amateur  Detectives  under  a 
Door-step,  and  what  they  saw  and  heard C3 

CHAPTER  V. 

Who  was  the  Red  Woman  ? — Tom  Leslie's  Strange  Story  of  Parisian  Life 
and  Fortune-tolling— The  20th  of  December,  1860— An  Hour  in  the 
Rue  la  Reynio  Ogniard— The  Vision  of  the  White  Mist— The  Se- 

17 


18  CO  XT  I  NTS. 

FAOE 

eoarioB   of   South    Carolina   seen   across  the   Atlantic — Wa?  the 
Sorceress  in  America? 73 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  and  Miss  Bell  Crawford — Miss  Harris  entering 
upon  the  Spy-System — Some  Dissertations  thereon,  as  practised 
in  the  Army  and  Elsewhere — What  McDowell  knew  before  Bull 
Run — Colonel  Crawford's  Affectionate  Care  of  his  Sick  Cousin — 
Josephine  Harris  behind  a  Glass  Door — What  she  overheard  about 
Cousin  Mary  and  the  Rich  Uncle  at  "West  Falls — Colonel  Crawford 
trying  his  Hand  at  Doctoring — A  Suspicious  Bandage,  and  what 
the  Watcher  thought  of  it 83 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Introduction  of  the  Contraband— What  Ho  Was  and  What  He  Is— Three 
Months  Earlier— Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  in  Thomas  Street — 
Aunt  Synchy,  the  Obi  Woman — How  a  Man  who  is  only  half  evil 
can  be  tempted  to  murder — The  Black  Paste  of  the  Obi  Poison     99 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker  and  Frank  Wallace  at  Judge  Owen's — A 
Pouting  Lover  and  a  Satisfied  Rival — The  Philosophy  of  Male  and 
Female  Jealousy — Frank  Wallace  doing  tho  Insulting — A  Bit  of 
a  Row — A  Smash-up  in  the  Streets,  and  a  True  Test  of  Relative 
Courage 115 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  First  Week  of  July — News  of  the  Reverses  before  Richmond — 
Painful  Feeling  of  the  Whole  Country — How  a  Nation  weeps 
Tears  of  Blood— The  Estimation  of  McClellan— The  Curse  of  Ab- 
senteeism— Public  Abhorrence  of  the  Shoulder-strapped  Heroes  on 
Broadway — A  Scene  at  the  World  Corner,  and  a  Hero  in  Dis- 
guise  


129 


CHAPTER  X. 
Leslie  and  Harding  following  up  the  Prince-Street  Mystery — A  Call  npon 
Superintendent  Kennedy — How  Tom  Leslie  wished  to  play  Detec- 
tive— A  Bit  of  a  Rebuff — A  Massachusetts  Regiment  going  to  tho 
War — Miss  Joe  Harris  and  Bell  Crawford  in  a  Street  Difficulty — A 
Rescue  and  a  Recognition — A  Trip  into  Taylor's  Saloon 1-J2 

CHAPTER  XL 

The  True  Characters  of  Men  and  of  Houses — Fifth  Avenue  and  the 
Swamp — Gilded  Vice,  and  Vice  without  Ornament — The  Progress 
of  Temptation — The  Legends  of  the  Lurline  and  the  Frozen  Hand 
— Dangers  of  Fashionable  Restaurants — Scenes  at  Taylor's  Saloon 


CONTENTS.  19 

PAGE 

— Tom  Leslie,  Joo  Harris  and  Bell  Crawford  at  Lunch — Tho 
Fortune-teller  selected  by  Miss  Harris  for  a  Visit — Wanted,  a 
Knight  for  Two  Distressed  Damsels — Tom  Leslie  enlists,  and  goes 
after  his  Armor 160 

CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Glance  at  Fortune-telling  and  other  Delusions — Our  Domestic  and 
Personal  Superstitions — Omens  and  thbir  Origin — The  "Witch  .of 
Endor,  Hamlet  and  Macbeth — One  Strange  Illustration  of  Prophecy 
in  Dreams — The  Fortune-tellers  of  New  York,  Boston  and  "Wash- 
ington   172 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Ten  Minutes  at  a  Costumer's — Among  the  Robes  of  Queens  and  the  Rags 
of  Beggars — How  Tom  Leslie  suddenly  grew  to  Sixty,  and 
changed  Clothes  accordingly — Josephine  Harris  and  Bell  Craw- 
ford still  at  Lunch,  with  a  Dissertation  upon  One  Pair  of  Eyes — 
An  Unwarrantable  Intrusion,  and  a  Decided  Sensation  at  Taylor's  187 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Necromancy  in  a  Thunder-storm — How  Tom  Leslie  and  his  Female 
Companions  called  upon  Madame  Elise  Boutell,  from  Paris,  in 
Prince  Street — A  New  "Way  of  Gambling  for  Precedence — Bell 
Crawford  takes  her  Turn — A  very  improper  Joining  of  Hands  in 
the  Outer  Apartment — About  Chances,  Accidents  and  Little  Things 
— The  Change  in  Bell  Crawford's  Eyes — Eyes  that  have  looked 
within — Two  Pictures  in  the  Old  Dusseldorf  Gallery — Joe  Harris 
Undergoing  the  Ordeal — A  Thunder-clap  and  a  Shriek  of  Terror — 
"What  Tom  Leslie  saw  in  the  Apartment  of  the  Red  Woman — A 
Mask  removed,  and  one  more  Temptation 198 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Camp  Lyon,  and  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford's  Two  Hundredth  Regiment 
— Recruiting  Discipline  in  the  Summer  of  18G2 — What  Smith  and 
Brown  saw — Lager-beer,  Cards  and  the  Dice-box — An  Adjutant 
who  obeys  Orders — A  Dress  Parade  a  la  mode — How  Seven  Hun- 
dred Men  may  be  squeezed  into  Three 218 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  Few  Words  on  the  Two  Modern  Modes  of  writing  Romances — How  to 
tell  what  is  not  known  and  can  never  bo  known — The  Bound  of 
a  Loyal  Pen — More  of  the  Up-town  Mystery — How  the  Reliable 
Detectives  posted  a  Watch,  and  how  they  kept  it — Cold  Water 
dampening  Enthusiasm — An  Escape,  and  the  Post  mortem  held  on 
a  Vacant  House— Trails  left  by  the  Secession  Serpent 232 


20  CONTEXTS. 

PAGB 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Pictures  at  the  Seat  of  War — Looking  for  John  Crawford  the  Zouave — 
Hopeful  and  Discouraged  Letters  Home — Events  which  h:id  pre- 
ceded Malvern  Hill — An  Army  winning  Victories  in  Retreat — 
The  Morning  after  White-Oak  Swamp — How  the  Sun  shines  on 
Fields  of  Carnage — Appearance  of  the  Retreating  Army — The 
Camp  of  Fitz-Jobn  Porter's  Division — The  Soldiers  of  Home,  and 
the  Soldiers  of  the  Field— The  First  Rebel  Attack  at  the  Crom 
Roads — Why  the  Potomac  Army  was  not  demoralized — The  Re- 
pulse, and  the  Pause  before  the  Heavier  Storm 239 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

More  of  the  First  Battle  of  Malvern — A  Word  about  Skulkers — An 
Attempt  to  flank  the  Union  Forces — A  Storm  of  Lead  and  Iron 
rivalling  the  War  of  the  Elements — The  Rebels  Repulsed — The 
Attack  on  the  Main  Position,  and  the  Second  Battle  of  Malvern — 
The  most  Terrible  Artillery  Duel  of  the  Century — Patriotism 
against  G-unpowdered  Whiskey — Shells  from  the  Gun-boats,  and 
their  Effect— The  Dead  upon  Carter's  Field— The  Last  Repulse  of 
the  Rebels,  and  the  General  Advance  of  the  Union  Forces — Strange 
Incidents  of  the  Close  of  the  Battle — Odd  Bravery  in  Meagher's 
Brigade — The  Apparition  in  White,  and  its  Effect — Close  of  the 
Great  Battle 256 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

John  Crawford  the  Zouave,  and  Bob  Webster — Incidents  of  the  Charge 
of  Duryea's  Zouaves — Bush-fighting  and  its  Result- — A  Wound  not 
bargained  for — The  Burning  House  and  its  Two  Watchers — A 
Strange  Death-scene — Marion  Hobart  and  her  Dying  Grandfather 
— Death  under  the  Old  Flag — An  Oath  of  Protection — A  Furlough 
— John  Crawford  brings  his  Xewly-acquired  Family  to  Xew  York  277 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Judge  Owen's  Condemnation  of  the  Rioters  at  his  House — How  Frank 
Wallace  was  exiled,  and  what  came  of  it — The  Burly  Judge  mak- 
ing a  Household  Arrest  at  Wallack's — Emily  Owen  and  Joe  Harris 
— A  Recognition  which  may  cause  Further  Trouble 297 


,  CHAPTER  XXI. 

Another  Scene  at  Richard  Crawford's — Josephine  Harris  playing  the 
Detective,  with  Musical  Accompaniments — A  Sudden  Demand  for 
Dark  Paste,  with  Difficulty  in  supplying  it — A  Young  Girl  who 
wished  to  be  believed  a  Coward — Ever  of  Thee,  with  some  Feel- 
ings thereunto  attached — Josephine  Harris  pays  a  Visit  to  Doctor 
la  Turque— Her  Discoveries  with  reference  to  the  Obi  Poison 312 


CONTEXTS.  21 

PAGB 

CHArTER  xxn. 
A  Little  Arrangement  between  Tom  Leslie  and  Joe  Harris— Going  to 
West  Falls  and  Niagara— A  Detention  and  a  Night  Scene  on  the 
Hudson-Kiver  Road— Why  Joe  Harris  hid  her  Saucy  Face— Oneida 
Scenery— Aunt  Betsey,  Little  Susy,  and  a  Peep  at  the  Halstead 
Homestead,  with  Pigs,  Chickens  and  Cherries 332 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Josephine  Harris  in  quest  of  Information— The  Big  House  on  the  Hill — 
Extracting  the  Secrets  of  the  Crawford  Family— How  a  Big  Fib 
may  sometimes  be  told  for  a  Good  Purpose— Aunt  Betsey  made  an 
Accomplice— Mary  Crawford,  the  Country  Girl,  and  a  Terrible 
Revelation— A  Bold  Letter  to  a  Bold  Man 350 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
The  Piazza  of  the  Big  House  on  the  Hill— John  Crawford  the  Human 
Wreck,  and  Egbert  Crawford  on  the  Eve  of  Marriage— Chanticleer 
on  the  Garden  Fence,  with  Remembrances  of  Peter  and  Judas 
Iscariot— John  Crawford  instructs  his  Expectant  Son-in-law— Ar- 
rival of  the.  Domestic  Post,  with  a  Letter  of  Import— A  Hit  or  a 
Miss? — Strida  la  Vampa , 372 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Affairs  in  the  Crawford  Family  in  New  York— The  Two  Brothers  together 
—Marion  Hobart  the  Enigma— How  Richard  Crawford  thought 
that  he  was  not  able  to  ride  to  the  Central  Park,  and  found  that 
he  could  ride  to  Niagara t>  391 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Tom  Leslie  at  Niagara— A  Dash  at  Scenery  there— What  he  saw  with  his 
Natural  Eyes,  and  what  with  his  Inner  Consciousness— The  Wreck 
and  the  Rainbow— Another  Rencontre  with  Dexter  Ralston— The 
Eclipse  on  the  Falls— Leslie  under  the  impression  that  he  can  be 
discounted,  and  that  he  knows  little  or  nothing  on  any  subject 404 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
Society  and  Shoulder-Straps  at  the  Falls— The  Delights  and  Duties  of  a 
Journalist— Leslie  and  Harding  Exploring  Canada— How  one  Fine 
Morning  War  was  declarod  between  England  and  the  United 
States,  and  Canada  annexed  to  New  York— A  Meeting  at  the  Cata- 
ract—Another Rencontre  with  the  Strange  Virginian— An  Abduc- 
tion and  a  Pursuit ^  420 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
The  Sequel  at  West  Falls— How  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  was  supposed 
to  have  been  telegraphed  for  from  Albany— Mary  Crawford  once 


22  CONTEXTS. 

TAGE 

more  at  the  Halstead'a — The  Final  Instruction?  nn<l  Promises  of 
the  Chief  Conspirator— Joe  Harris  returns  to  the  Croat  City,  and 
her  Disappointment  therein — Another  Conspiracy  hatched,  threat- 
ening to  blow  Judge  Owen's  Domestic  Tranquillity  to  Atoms -133 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
Some  Speculations  on  Moonlight  and  Insanity — Captain  Robert  Slivers, 
of  the  Sickles  Brigade,  makes  his  Appearance  at  Judge  Owen's — 
He  draws  Graphic  Pictures  of  the  War,  for  the  Edification  of 
Colonel  Bancker — A  Controversy,  with  further  inquiries  as  to  the 
Age  of  the  Colonel — The  Market  brisk  for  Hirsute  Excrcscene 
the  Cranium,  and  no  Supply — Judge  Owen  laughs  ponderously  446 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
Gathering  the  Ravelled  Threads  of  a  Long  Story— What  befel  Several 
Persons  heretofore  named — Marriages  in  Demand,  and  only  a  few 
furnished— A  Raid  into  Canada— What  befell  Colonel  Egbert 
Crawford  and  the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment — A  Cavalry  Charge 
at  Antietam,  and  a  Farewell 400 


SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Two  Friends — A  Rencontre  before  Niblo's — Three  Meet- 
ings with  a  Man  op  Mark — Mount  Vernon  and  the 
Inauguration — Friend  or  Foe  to  the  Union  ? 

Just  before  the  close  of  the  performances  at  Niblo's  Garden, 
where  the  Jarrett  combination  was  then  playing,  one  evening 
in  the  latter  part  of  June,  1862,  two  young  men  came  out 
from  the  doorway  of  the  theatre  and  took  their  course  up 
Broadway  toward  the  Houston  Street  corner.  Any  observer 
who  might  have  caught  a  clear  view  of  the  faces  of  the  two  as 
they  passed  under  one  of  the  large  lamps  at  the  door,  would 
have  noted  each  as  being  worth  a  second  glance,  but  would  at 
the  same  time  have  observed  that  two  persons  more  dissimilar 
in  appearance  and  in  indication  of  character,  could  scarcely 
have  been  selected  out  of  all  the  varied  thousands  resident  in 
the  great  city. 

The  one  walking  on  the  inside  as  they  passed  on,  with  the 
right  hand  of  his  companion  laid  on  his  left  arm  in  that  confi- 
dential manner  so  common  with  intimate  friends  who  wish  to 
walk  together  in  the  evening  without  being  jostled  apart  by 
hurried  chance  passengers,  was  somewhat  tall  in  figure,  dark- 
haired,  dark  side-whiskered,  and  sober-faced,  though  decidedly 
iine-looking  ;  and  in  spite  of  the  heat  of  the  weather  he  pre- 
served the  appearance  of  winter  dress  clothing  by  a  full  suit 
of  dark  gray  summer  stuff  that  might  well  have  been  mistaken 
for  broadcloth.     Not  even  in  hat  or  boots  did  he  make  any 

(23) 


24  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  K  -  S  T  R  A  P  S .  * 

apparent  concession  to  the  season,  for  his  glossy  round  hat- 
would  have  been  quite  as  much  in  place  in  January  as  in  June, 
and  his  well-fitting  and  glossy  patent-leather  boots  would 
have  been  thought  oppressively  warm  by  a  hotter-blooded  and 
more  plethoric  man.  Those  who  should  have  seen  the  bap- 
tismal register  recording  his  birth  some  five-and-thirty  years 
before,  would  have  known  his  name  to  be  Walter  Lane  Hard- 
ing ;  and  those  who  met  him  in  business  or  society  would  have 
become  quite  as  well  aware  that  he  was  a  prosperous  merchant, 
doing  business  in  one  of  the  leading  mercantile  streets  running 
out  of  Broadway,  not  far  from  the  City  Hospital.  So  far  as 
the  somewhat  precise  mercantile  appearance  of  Harding  was 
concerned,  a  true  disciple  of  Lavatcr  would  have  judged 
correctly  of  him,  for  there  were  few  men  in  the  city  "of  New 
York  who  displayed  more  steadiness,  or  greater  money-making 
capacity  in  all  the  details  of  business  ;  and  yet  even  the  close 
observer  would  have  been  likely  to  derive  a  false  impression 
from  this  very  preciseness,  as  to  the  social  qualities  of  the 
man.  There  were  quite  as  few  better  or  heartier  laughers 
than  Harding,  when  duly  aroused  to  mirth  ;  and  those  persons 
were  very  rare,  making  the  characters  of  mankind  their  pro- 
fessional study,  who  saw  slight  indications  of  disposition  more 
quickly,  or  better  enjoyed  whatever  gave  food  for  quiet  merri- 
ment. Once  away  from  his  counting-house,  too,  Walter 
Harding  seemed  to  assume  a  second  of  his  two  natures  that 
had  before  been  lying  dormant,  and  to  enter  into  the  per- 
mitted gaieties  of  city  life  with  a  zest  that  many  a  professed 
good  fellow  might  have  envied.  He  visited  the  theatre,  as  we 
have  seen ;  went  to  the  opera  when  it  pleased  him,  not  for 
fashion's  sake,  but  because  he  liked  music  and  was  a  counois- 
seur  of  singing  and  acting  ;  liked  a  stroll  in  the  streets  with  a 
congenial  companion  (male  or  female)  ;  could  smoke  a  good 
cigar  with  evident  enjoyment ;  and  sometimes,  though  rarely, 
sipped  a  glass  of  fine  old  wine,  and  indulged  .in  the  freer 
pleasures  of  the  table  ;  though  he  was  scrupulously  careful 
of  his  company,  and  no  man  had  ever  seen  his  foot  cross  the 
threshold  of  a  house  of  improper  character.  It  is  sufficient,  p~. 
in  addition,  at  the  present  moment,  to  say  that  he  was  still  a  *■* 
bachelor,  occupying  rooms  in  an  up-tovvn  street,  and  enjoying  NCfc 


SHOULDE  R   STRAP  S.  25 

life  in  that  pleasant  and  rational  mode  which  seemed  to  pro- 
mise long'  continuance. 

Harding's  companion,  who  has  already  been  indicated  as 
his  opposite,  was  markedly  so  in  personal  appearance,  at  least. 
He  was  two  or  three  inches  shorter  than  Harding,  and  much 
stouter,  displaying  a  well-rounded  leg  through  the  folds  of  his 
loose  pants  of  light-gray  Melton  cloth,  and  being  quite  well 
aware  of  that  advantage  of  person.  He  had  a  smoothly  rounded 
face,  with  a  complexion  that  had  been  fair  until  hard  work, 
late  hours,  and  some  exposure  to  the  elements,  had  browned 
and  roughened  it ;  brown  hair,  with  an  evident  tendency  to 
curl,  if  he  had  not  worn  it  so  short  on  account  of  the  heat  of 
the  season,  that  a  curl  was  rendered  impossible  ;  a  heavy 
dark  brown  moustache,  worn  without  other  beard ;  a  sunny  hazel 
eye  that  seemed  made  for  laughter,  and  a  full,  red,  voluptuous 
lip  that  might  have  belonged  to  a  sensualist ;  while  the  eye  could 
really  do  other  things  than  laughing,  and  the  lip  was  quite  as 
often  compressed  or  curled  in  the  bitterness  of  disdain  or  the 
earnestness  of  close  thought,  as  employed  to  express  any 
warmer  or  more  sympathetic  feeling. 

Tom  Leslie,  who  might  have  been  called  by  the  more 
respectful  and  dignified  name  of  "  Thomas,"  but  that  no 
one  had  ever  expended  the  additional  amount  of  breath  ne- 
cessary to  extend  the  name  into  two  syllables,  was  a  cadet  of 
a  leading  family  in  a  neighboring  state,  who  at  home  had 
been  reckoned  the  black  sheep  of  the  flock,  because  he  would 
not  settle  quietly  down  like  the  rest  to  money-getting  and 
the  enjoyment  of  legislative  offices ;  a  man  who  at  thirty  had 
passed  thTough  much  experience,  seen  a  little  dissipation, 
traveled  over  most  States  of  the  Union  in  the  search  for  new 
scenery,  or  the  fulfilment  of  his  avocation  as  a  newspaper  cor- 
respondent and  man  of  letters ;  been  twice  in  Europe,  alter- 
nately flying  about  like  a  madman,  and  sitting  down  to  study 
life  and  manners  in  Paris,  Vienna,  and  Rome,  and  gathering 
up  all  kinds  of  useful  and  useless  information  ;  taken  a  short 
turn  at  war  in  the  Crimea,  in  1853,  as  a  private  in  the  ranks 
of  the  French  army;  seen  service  for  a  few  months  in  the 
Brazilian  navy,  from  which  he  had  brought  a  severe  wound  as 
a  flattering  testimonial,      lie  was  at  that  time  located  in   New 


26  SHOULDERS  T  K  A  P  S. 

York  us  an  editorial  contributor  and  occasional  "special  cor- 
respondent" of  a  leading  newspaper.      He  had  seen  much  of 

life — tasted  much  of  its  pains  and  pleasures — perhaps  thought 
more  than  either ;  and  though  with  a  little  too  much  of  a 
propensity  for  late  hours  and  those  long  stories  which  would 
grow  out  of  current  events  seen  in  the  light  of  past  expe- 
rience, he  was  held  to  be  a  very  pleasant  companion  by  other 
men  than  Walter  Harding. 

Perhaps  even  the  long  stories  were  more  a  misfortune  than 
a  fault.  The  Ancient  Mariner  found  it  one  of  the  saddest 
penalties  of  his  crime,  that  he  was  obliged  to  button-hole  all 
his  friends  and  be  written  down  an  incorrigible  bore  ;  and  who 
doubts  that  the  Wandering  Jew,  with  the  weight  of  twenty 
centuries  of  experience  and  observation  upon  his  head,  finds 
a  deeper  pang  than  the  tropic  heat  or  the  Arctic  snow  could 
give,  in  the  want  of  an  occasional  quiet  and  patient  listener 
to  the  story  of  his  wanderings  ? 

On  the  present  occasion  it  may  be  noted,  at  once  to  com- 
plete the  picture  and  give  additional  insight  of  a  character 
which  did  very  independent  and  outre  things,  that  Tom  Leslie 
had  gone  to  Niblo's  with  his  carefully-dressed  and  precise 
friend  Harding,  and  sat  conspicuously  in  an  orchestra  chair, 
in  a  gray  business  sack,  no  vest  and  no  pretence  at  a  collar. 
In  other  men,  Harding  would  have  noticed  the  dress  with 
disapprobation  :  in  Leslie  it  seemed  to  be  legitimately  a  part 
of  the  man  to  dress  as  he  liked ;  and  neither  Harding,  or  any 
one  else  wTho  knew  him,  paid  any  more  attention  to  his  out- 
ward appearance  than  they  would  have  bestowed  upon  a 
harmless  lunatic  under  the  same  circumstances.  Wherever 
Leslie  boarded,  (and  his  places  of  boarding  were  very  nume- 
rous, taking  the  whole  year  together,)  it  was  always  noted 
that  he  filled  up  the  hat-rack  with  a  collection  of  hats  of  all 
odd  and  rapid  styles,  with  a  few  of  the  more  sedate  and 
respectable ;  and  on  this  evening's  visit  to  Niblo's,  when 
there  was  not  a  shadow  of  occasion  for  a  hat  with  any  brim, 
whatever,  he  had  completed  his  personal  appearance  by  a  fine 
gray  beaver  California  soft  hat,  of  not  less  than  eighteen  or 
twenty  inches  in  the  whole  circumference,  which  gave  him 
somewhat  the   appearance  of   being  under  a  collapsed  um- 


SUOULDEli-iiTRAPS.  27 

brulla,  and  yet  became  him  as  well  as  any  thing  else  could  have 
done,  and  left  him  unmistakably  a  handsome  fellow. 

An  oddly  mixed  compound,  certainly — even  odder  than 
Harding ;  and  yet  what  a  dull,  dead  world  this  would  prove 
to  be,  if  there  were  no  odd  and  outre  characters  to  startle  the 
grave  people  from  their  propriety,  and  throw  an  occasional 
pebble  splashing  into  the  pool  of  quiet  and  irreproachable 
mediocrity  1 

The  two  companions,  whose  description  has  occupied  a 
much  longer  time  than  it  needed  to  walk  from  the  door  of 
Niblo's  to  the  Houston  Street  corner,  were  just  passing  the 
corner  of  that  street  on  their  way  up  to  Bleecker,  when  they 
were  momentarily  stopped  by  a  very  ordinary  incident.  A 
girl,  evidently  of  the  demi-monde  from  her  bold  eyes,  lavish 
display  of  charms  and  general  demeanor,  was  turning  the 
corner  from  Broadway  into  Houston  Street  immediately  in 
front  of  Harding  and  Leslie;  and  as  she  swept  around,  her 
long  dress  trailing  on  the  pavement,  a  careless  fellow,  loung- 
ing along,  cigar  in  mouth,  and  eyes  everywhere  else  than  at 
his  feet,  stepped  full  upon  her  skirt,  and  before  she  could 
check  the  impetus  of  her  sudden  turn,  literally  tore  the  gar- 
ment from  her,  the  dark  folds  of  the  dress  falling  on  the  pave- 
ment and  leaving  the  under-clothing  painfully  exposed.  The 
girl  turned  suddenly,  one  of  those  harsh  oaths  upon  her  lips 
which  even  more  than  any  action  betray  the  fallen  woman, 
and  hissed  out  a  malediction  on  his  brutal  carelessness.  The 
man,  probably  one  who  literally  knew  no  better,  instead  of 
remembering  the  provocation,  apologizing  for  the  injury  he 
nad  done  and  offering  to  make  any  reparation  in  his  power, 
replied  by  an  oath  still  more  shocking  than  that  of  the  lost 
girl,  hurled  at  her  the  most  opprobrious  epithet  which  man 
bestows  upon  woman  in  the  English  language,  and  one  by  far 
too  obscene  to  be  repeated  in  these  pages, — and  was  passing 
on,  leaving  the  poor  girl  to  gather  her  torn  drapery  as  she 
best  could,  when  his  course  was  suddenly  arrested. 

A  tall  figure  had  come  up  from  below  during  the  alterca- 
tion, unnoticed  by  either  ;  and  the  instant  after  the  man  had 
disgraced  his  humanity  by  that  abuse  of  a  fallen  woman,  he 
found  himself  seized  by  the  collar  with  a  hand  that  managed 
2 


28  SHUULDER-STKAPS. 

him  as  if  he  had  been  a  child,  and  himself  full  off  the  side-walk 
-into  the  street,  and  among  the  wheels  of  the  passing  omni- 
buses, with  the  quick  sharp  words. ringing  in  his  ear  : 

11  The  devil  take  you  !  If  you  can't  learn  to  walk  along 
the  pavement  without  tearing  off  women's  dresses  and  after- 
wards abusing  them,  go  out  into  the  street  with  the  brutes, 
where  you  belong  !"' 

The  two  friends  noticed,  casually,  that  a  policeman  stood 
on  the  upper  corner,  and  at  this  act  of  violence  on  the  part 
of  the  new-comer,  they  naturally  expected  to  see  him  interfere 
to  preserve  the  peace,  if  not  make  an  arrest ;  but  he  was 
either  too  lazy  to  cross  the  street,  (such  things  have  been,)  or 
too  well  satisfied  that  the  coarse  ruffian  had  met  the  treat- 
ment he  deserved,  to  make  any  step  forward.  The  fellow, 
thus  suddenly  sent  to  the  company  of  worn-out  omnibus- 
horses  and  swearing  stage-drivers  on  a  slippery  pavement, 
turned  with  an  oath,  when  he  recovered  himself,  made  a 
movement  as  if  to  return  to  the  sidewalk  and  seek  satisfac- 
tion for  the  violence,  but  evidently  did  not  like  the  looks  of 
his  antagonist,  when  he  caught  a  fair  glance  of  his  propor- 
tions, and  solaced  himself  with  a  few  more  muttered  oaths  as 
he  dodged  across  to  the  other  side  of  Broadway  and  disap- 
peared in  the  crowd. 

The  second  and  prudential  resolve  of  this  person  seemed 
fully  justified  by  even  a  hasty  survey  of  his  assailant,  who 
happened  to  be  thrown  under  the  light  of  the  lamp  at  the 
corner,  and  in  full  view  of  our  companions.  He  was  perhaps 
six  feet  and  an  inch  in  height,  cast  in  a  most  powerful  model, 
and  evidently  possessing  herculean  strength — with  a  dark 
complexion,  high  cheek  bones,  showing  almost  as  if  he  had  a 
cross  of  the  old  Indian  blood  in  his  descent,  fiery  dark  eyes 
set  under  brows  of  the  pent-house  or  Webster  mould,  heavy 
massed  black  curly  hair  worn  a  little  long,  and  a  very  heavy 
black  moustache  entirely  concealing  the  mouth,  while  the 
beard  shorn  away  from  the  lower  portions  of  the  face  left  the 
square,  strong  chin  in  full  prominence.  He  was  dressed  in 
dark  frock  coat  with  white  vest  and  pants,  and  wore  a  dark 
wide-brimmed  slouched  hat  almost  the  counterpart  of  Leslie's, 
except  in  color,  which   harmonized  well  with  his  personal 


SHOULDER -STRAPS.  29 

appearance  in  other  regards,  and  while  it  left  him  looking 
the  gentleman,  made  him  the  gentleman  of  some  other  loca- 
lity than  the  city  of  New  York. 

The  new-comer,  the  moment  he  had  sent  the  other  whirl- 
ing into  the  street,  approached  the  girl,  who  still  remained 
standing  on  the  corner,  her  ungathered  dress  sweeping  the 
pavement,  and  said  : 

"  Madame,  your  dress  is  badly  torn.  Allow  me  to  offer 
you  a  few  pins."  He  drew  a  large  pin-cushion  from  his  large 
vest  pocket,  (everything  seemed  to  be  of  a  large  pattern  about 
this  man,)  and  was  handing  it  to  the  girl,  who  stretched  out 
her  left  hand  to  receive  it,  when  he  suddenly  seemed  to 
recognize  her. 

"  Why,  Kate  !"  He  spoke  in  tones  of  the  most  unfeigned 
surprise — "Kate,  what  the  deuce !  I  thought  you  were  in — n 

11  Yes,  Deck  1"  answered  the  girl,  with  a  coarse  familiarity, 
"  but  you  see  I  am  here  !  And  you  ?  I  thought  you  were 
in—"     f 

"Hush-h-h !"  said  the  man,  in  a  quick,  sharp,  decided  tone, 
prolonged  almost  to  be  a  hiss.  "  That  will  do  !  Now  use 
some  of  these  pins — quick,  fasten  up  your  skirt,  and  then  go 
with  me  /" 

He  spoke  as  if  he  was  in  the  habit  of  being  obeyed,  or  as 
if  he  had  some  peculiar  claim  that  he  should  be  obeyed  in 
this  instance.  And  the  girl  seemed  fully  to  understand  him, 
for  only  a  moment  served  to  supply  so  many  pins  to  the  torn 
gathers  of  the  dress  as  enabled  her  to  walk  and  hid  her  ex- 
posed under-clothing ;  and  the  instant  that  object  was  accom- 
plished she  thrust  her  arm  into  his,  he  making  no  attempt  to 
repel  the  familiarity,  but  walking  with  hasty  strides  and 
almost  dragging  her  after  him,  down  into  the  partial  gloom 
of  Houston  Street. 

When  they  had  disappeared,  and  not  till  then,  the  two 
friends  removed  from  the  spot  where  they  had  been  standing 
entirely  silent,  and  passed  on  up  Broadway. 

"A  strange  person — a  very  strange  person,  that!"  said 
Harding,  the  moment  after,  to  Leslie,  who  appeared  to  be 
thinking  intently,  and  who  had  not  littered  a  word  since  the 
affair  commenced. 


30  SHOULDER-STKAPS. 

Y — a — es  I"   said   Leslie,    in  that   slow,    abstracted    tone 

which  indicates  that  the  man  who  uses  it  is  doing  so  mecha- 
nically and  without  knowing  what  he  says. 

"Poor  devil!  how  the  new  man  whirled  him  out  into  the 
street  !''  Harding  went  on,  his  attention  on  the  incident,  as 
Leslie's  apparently  was  not.  "Just  the  treatment  he 
deserved  for  being  brutal  to  a  woman,  no  matter  how  lost  <>r 
degraded  she  may  be  !  Tearing  off  her  dress  was  all  right 
enough,  however,  for  all  the  woman  deserve  nothing  better 
than  to  have  their  dresses  torn  into  ribbons  for  thrusting 
them  under  our  feet  and  sweeping  the  streets  with  them,  as 
they  do !" 

Harding  was  thinking,  at  the  moment,  of  a  little  adven- 
ture of  his  own  a  few  weeks  before,  in  which,  hurrying  along 
to  an  appointment,  early  in  the  evening,  not  far  from  the 
St.  Nicholas,  he  had  come  up  with  a  party  of  theatre-goers, 
trodden  upon  the  dress  of  one  of  the  ladies  in  attempting  to 
pass — in  extricating  himself  from  that  awkwardness,  trodden 
upon  the  dresses  of  two  more — and  left  the  whole  three  nearly 
naked  in  the  street ;  while  three  female  voices  were  scream- 
ing in  shame  and  mortification,  and  three  male  voices  send- 
ing words  after  him  the  very  reverse  of  complimentary. 

"  You  think  that  a  singular  person  ?"  at  length  said  Leslie, 
as  if  waking  from  a  reverie,  but  proving  at  the  same  time  that 
he  had  heard  the  words  of  his  friend.  "  You  are  right,  he 
is  so  !" 

"  What !  do  you  know  him  V  asked  Harding,  surprised. 

"  I  do,  indeed,"  was  the  reply  of  Leslie  ;  "  but  I  should  as 
soon  have  thought  of  meeting  Schamyl  or  Garibaldi  in  the 
streets  of  New  York,  at  this  moment,  as  the  man  we  have 
just  encountered.  Fortunately,  he  did  not  recognize  me — 
perhaps,  thanks  to  this  hat — (it  is  an  immense  hat,  isn't  it, 
Harding  ?)  What  can  be  his  position,  and  what  is  his  busi- 
ness here  at  the  present  moment,  I  wonder  ?"  he  went  on, 
speaking  more  to  himself  than  to  his  companion,  as  the}r 
turned  down  Blcecker  from  Broadway  towards  Leslie:s  lodg- 
ings, on  Bleecker  near  Elm. 

"  Well,  but  you  have  not  }-et  told  me  his  name,  or  any  thing 
about  him,  while  you  go  on  tantalizing  me  with  speculations 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  31 

as  to  how  he  came  to  be  here,  and  what  he  is  doing  !"  said 
Harding. 

"  True  enough,"  answered  Leslie.  "  Well,  he  is  not  the 
sort  of  man  to  talk  about  loosely  in  the  streets ;  so  wait  a 
moment,  until  I  use  my  night-key  and  we  get  up  into  my 
room.  There  we  can  smoke  a  cigar,  and  I  will  tell  you  all  I 
know  of  him,  which  is  just  enough  to  excite  my  wonder  to  a 
much  greater  height  than  your  own." 

Less  than  five  minutes  sufficed  to  fulfil  the  conditions  pre- 
scribed ;  and  in  Leslie's  little  room,  himself  occupying  the 
three  chairs  it  contained,  by  sitting  in  one,  and  stretching  out 
his  two  legs  on  the  others,  while  Harding  threw  off  his  coat 
and  lounged  on  the  bed,  Leslie  poured  out  his  story,  and  the 
smoke  from  his  cigar,  with  about  equal  rapidity. 

"The  name  of  that  singular  man,"  he  said,  "is  Dexter 
Ralston,  and  he  is  by  birth  a  Virginian.  You  heard  the  girl 
call  him  *  Deck,'  which  you  no  doubt  took  to  be  l  Dick,'  but 
which  she  really  meant  as  a  familiar  abbreviation  of  his  name. 
It  is  a  little  singular  that  I  should  have  met  him  first  at  a 
theatre,  and  not  far  from  the  one  at  which  we  just  now  en- 
countered him.  It  was  in  the  fall  of  185T,  I  think,  going  in 
with  a  party  of  friends,  one  night,  to  Laura  Keene's,  that  one 
of  the  ladies  of  the  party  was  rudely  jostled  by  a  large  man, 
who  caught  his  foot  in  the  matting  of  the  vestibule  and  fell 
against  her  with  such  violence  as  nearly  to  throw  her  to  the 
floor.  He  turned  and  apologized  at  once,  and  with  so  much 
high-toned  and  gentlemanly  dignity,  that  all  the  party  felt 
almost  glad  that  the  little  accident  had  occurred.  This  made 
the  first  step  of  an  acquaintance  between  him  and  myself; 
and  when,  in  the  intermission  the  same  evening,  I  met  him 
for  a  few  moments  in  a  saloon  near  the  theatre,  we  drank  to 
gether,  held  some  slight  conversation,  exchanged  cards,  and 
each  invited  the  other  to  call  at  his  lodgings.  His  card  lies 
somewhere  in  the  bureau  there  at  this  moment,  and  it  read, 
I  remember,  '  Dexter  P^alston,  Charles  City,  Virginia,'  with 
'St.  Nicholas*  written  in  pencil  in  the  corner.  He  was  a 
wealthy  planter,  living  near  Charles  City,  as  I  afterwards 
gathered  from  conversation  with  him,  and  had  an  interest  in 


32  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

tobacco  transactions  at  the  North  which  kept  him  a  large 
proportion  of  his  time  in  this  city. 

"Of  his  own  choice  Ralston  attended  the  theatres  very 
frequently,  as  I  did  from  professional  duty ;  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  we  met  often,  and  sometimes  supped  to- 
gether. I  liked  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  pleased  with  me, 
though  I  should  be  perverting  the  truth  to  say  that  1  ever 
became  very  cordial  or  intimate  with  him.  There  was  some- 
thing about  the  man  which  forbade  familiarity  ;  though  I  re- 
member thinking,  several  times,  that  if  one  only  could  pene- 
trate beneath  the  crust  made  by  that  evident  pride  and 
haughty  reserve,  he  was  a  man  to  be  liked  to  the  death  by  a 
man,  and  loved  by  a  woman  with  eternal  devotion.  After  a 
time,  and  without  my  receiving  any  '  P.  P.  C  to  say  that  he 
wTas  going  to  leave  the  city,  he  disappeared,  and  I  saw  him 
no  more  in  the  street  or  at  any  of  his  favorite  places  of 
amusement. 

"  Well,  I  went  down  to  Mount  Ternon  with  a  party  of 
friends  from  Washington,  on  board  the  steamboat  George 
Page.  Did  you  ever  know  Page  himself,  the  fat  old  Wash- 
ingtonian  who  invented  something  about  the  circular-saw, 
and  has  some  kind  of  a  patent-right  on  all  that  are  made 
above  a  certain  number  of  inches  in  diameter  ?  Xo  ?  Well, 
he  is  an  odd  genius,  and  I  will  some  day  tell  you  something 
about  him.  But  I  was  just  now  speaking  of  the  steamboat 
named  after  him.  The  Rebels  had  her  last  year,  you  remem- 
ber, using  her  as  a  gunboat  somewhere  up  Aquia  Creek, 
until  they  got  scared  and  burned  her  one  night, — though  she 
was  about  as  fit  for  that  purpose  as  an  Indian  bark-canoe. 
The  Page  w^as  running  as  an  excursion  boat  to  Mount  Yernon, 
and  sometimes  going  down  to  Aquia  Creek  in  connection 
with  the  railroad,  in  the  winter  and  spring  of  1858-9.  I  was 
doing  some  reporting,  and  a  little  lobbying,  in  the  Senate,  at 
the  beginning  of  March,  and,  as  I  have  said,  ran  down  with 
a  party  of  friends  to  see  the  Tomb  of  Washington,  curse  the 
neglect  that  hung  over  it  like  a  nightmare,  and  execrate  the 
meanness  w^hich  sold  off  bouquets  from  the  garden,  and  canes 
from  the  woods,  at  a  quarter  each,  by  the  hands  of  a  pack  of 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  33 

dirty  slaves,  to  the  hands  of  a  pack  of  dirtier  curiosity- 
hunters. 

"  Going  down  the  river  I  found  no  accpiaintances  on  board, 
outside  of  niy  own  party ;  but  when  we  had  made  the  due 
inspection,  and  were  returning  in  the  afternoon,  just  when  we 
were  off  Fort  Washington,  an  acquaintance  belonging  to  the 
capital  came  up,  in  conversation  with  a  thin,  scrawny,  hard- 
featured  man,  dressed  in  black,  and  looking  like  a  cross  be- 
tween a  decayed  Yankee  schoolmaster  and  a  foreign  Count 
gone  into  the  hand-organ  business.  As  we  exchanged  salu- 
tations he  stopped,  made  a  step  backward,  and  astounded  me 
by  this  introduction  : 

" '  Col.  Washington,  my  friend,  Mr.  Leslie — Mr.  Leslie, 
Col.  John  A.  Washington,  proprietor  of  Mount  Yernon., 

"  I  do  not  suppose  that  there  was  any  merit  in  it,  any  more 
than  there  would  have  been  in  refusing  to  drink  a  nauseous 
dose  ;  but,  really,  I  felt  that  I  was  fulfilling  a  stern  duty  (no 
pun  intended)  in  turning  my  back  short  upon  the  Colonel, 
and  saying : 

"  '  Much  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  ,  but  I  have  no  desire 

whatever  to  know  Col.  John  A.  Washington  !' 

"  I  will  do  the  Colonel  (though  he  did  afterwards  die  a  rebel 
as  he  deserved)  the  justice  to  say  that  I  do  not  think  he  cared 
much  for  the  cut.  I  noticed  that  his  sallow  face  looked  a 
shade  nearer  to  green  than  before,  but  he  merely  drew  him- 
self up  and  took  no  other  notice  of  my  decidedly  cavalier 
conduct.  Not  so,  however,  with  some  of  the  passengers, 
who  had  been  near  enough  to  hear  the  words,  and  who 
seemed  to  think  that  the  memory  of  the  great  dead  was  in- 
sulted, instead  of  honored,  by  this  rebuff  to  the  miserable 
offshoot  who  kept  Mount  Yernon  as  a  cross  between  a  pig- 
stye  and  a  Jew  old-clo'  shop.  Some  of  them,  I  suppose, 
were  Yirginians,  and  neighbors  of  'the  Colonel.'  At  all 
events,  I  heard  mutterings,  and  the  ladies  in  my  company 
(they  were  all  ladies)  looked  a  little  alarmed. 

"  Directly  one  of  the  F.  F.  Y.'s,  as  I  suppose  them  to  have 
been,  stepped  forward  immediately  in  front  of  me,  and  said  : 

"'D — n  it,  sir,  the  man  who  insults  a  Washington  must 
answer  to  me  P 


84  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  '  Must  he  V  I  said,  not  much  scared,  I  think,  but  a  little 
flustered,  and  quite  undecided  whether  to  get  into  a  row  on 
the  spot  by  striking  the  last  man. 

"'He  must!'  replied  the  F.  F.  V.,  with  another  curse  or 
two  thrown  in  by  way  of  emphasis.  '  You  may  be  some 
cursed  Yankee,  peddling  buttons,  and  afraid  to  fight ;  but  if 

not—1 

"  '  lie  will  have  no  occasion  to  fight,'  said  a  voice  coming 
through  the  crowd  from  the  side  of  the  vessel.  '  I  will  take 
that  little  job  off  his  hands.  Eh,  Leslie,  is  that  you  ?  They 
tell  me  you  have  been  giving  the  cut-direct  to  that  mean 
humbug  who  calls  himself  John  A.  Washington.  Give  me 
your  hand,  old  boy ;  you  have  done  nothing  more  than  your 
duty.  I  am  a  Virginian,  and  no  d — d  Yankee — does  any- 
body want  to  fight  me  ?' 

"It  was  Dexter  Ralston.  How  many  of  the  people  on 
board  knew  him  I  have  no  idea,  or  what  they  knew  of  him. 
He  seemed  to  exercise  some  strange  influence,  however,  for 
Col.  Washington  turned  away,  with  the  friend  who  had 
offered  to  introduce  him ;  and  the  man  who  had  offered  to 
fight  me  also  disappeared.  The  crowd  at  that  spot  on  the 
deck  seemed  to  be  gone  in  a  moment.  Ralston  and  myself 
exchanged  a  few  words.  I  thanked  him  for  having  extri- 
cated me  from  a  possible  scrape,  as  well  as  for  his  good 
opinion  of  my  conduct,  all  which  he  waived  with  a  'pshaw  !' 
He  received  an  introduction  to  the  ladies  with  all  due  cour- 
tesy, chatted  with  them  a  few  moments,  and  then  strolled  off, 
smoking  a  cigar.  I  was  engaged  with  my  party  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  trip,  and  did  not  see  him  again  until  we  had 
reached  Washington  and  the  passengers  dispersed  from  the 
steamboat,  when  of  course  I  lost  him,  without  any  inquiry 
being  made  as  to  his  address  or  present  residence.  I  went 
to  Europe,  the  last  time,  as  you  know,  the  summer  following, 
and  so  perhaps  lost  him  more  effectually.     Tired  ?" 

The  latter  word  was  especially  addressed  to  Harding,  who 
gave  symptoms  of  going  to  sleep.  Refreshed,  however,  by 
a  cigar  which  Leslie  thrust  between  his  lips  and  insisted  upon 
his  smoking,  Harding  managed,  even  in  his  recumbent  po- 
sition, to  keep  awake  for  what  followed. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  35 

"  Confound  you  I"  said  Leslie,  "you  might  manage  to  get 
along  without  yawning  at  my  story,  when  you  asked  me  to 
tell  it !  However,  who  cares  !  You  are  not  the  only  man 
who  does  not  know  a  good  thing  when  he  sees  or  hears  it ! 
Some  of  my  best  things  in  print  have  probably  been  received 
in  like  manner,  by  people  just  as  stupid  I" 

11  Very  likely,"  said  Harding,  drily  ;  and  Leslie  continued. 

"I  came  home  from  Europe  in  the  winter  of  18G0-61,  as 
you  may  likewise  remember  if  you  are  not  too  sleepy ;  and  I 
was  one  of  the  ten  thousand  who  went  down  from  this  city 
to  Washington,  to  attend  the  inauguration  of  Abraham  Lincoln. 
Nine  thousand  nine  hundred  and  ninety  odd  went  armed  to 
the  teeth,  carrying  each  from  one  revolver  to  three,  and  a  few 
bowie-knives,  in  anticipation  of  there  being  a  general  row  on 
inauguration  morning,  if  not  an  open  attempt  to  assassinate 
the  President.  One  man  whom  I  could  name  actually 
carried  four  revolvers  and  a  dirk,  without  knowing  any  more 
about  the  use  of  either  than  a  child  of  ten  years  might  have 
done.  There  ivas  danger  of  a  collision,  of  course,  growing 
out  of  the  very  fact  that  everybody  went  down  armed.  I 
was  one  of  the  very  few  who  could  not  borrow  a  revolver  or 
did  not  want  one — no  matter  which. 

"  Suffice  it  to  say  that  I  reached  Washington  on  Sunday 
morning — the  day  previous  to  the  inauguration — found  the 
hotels  full  and  took  lodgings  at  a  private  house  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  Capitol,  and  spent  the  early  part  of  the 
day  in  inspecting  the  preparations  made  for  the  holiday  show, 
in  and  about  the  Capitol  building.  The  courtesy  of  Colonel 
Forney,  then  Clerk  of  the  House,  arranged  for  my  admission 
to  the  building  during  the  ceremonies  of  the  next  day ; 
and  that  of  Douglas  Wallach,  of  the  Star,  furnished  me  a 
seat  in  the  reporters'  gallery  of  the  Senate  for  that  evening 
when  the  last  session  of  the  expiring  Congress  was  to  be 
held  and  a  last  effort  made  for  putting  through  those  '  com- 
promise resolutions'  which  it  was  then  believed  might  'save 
the  Union,'  but  which  we  now  know  to  have  been  as  useless, 
even  if  they  could  have  been  passed,  as  so  much  whistling 
against,  the  wind. 

"  Although  it  was  Sunday,  time  was  pressing,  and  the  fate 


36  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

of  the  nation  seemed  to  be  hanging  upon  a  breath;  so  the 
Senate  had  arranged  a  session  for  live  o'clock,  which  seemed 
very  likely  to  last  well  into  the  night,  and  was  almost  certain 
to  be  crowded  to  suffocation.  As  you  will  remember,  it  did 
last  until  seven  the  next  morning — after  daylight,  and  wit- 
nessed one  of  the  most  exciting  debates  in  the  history  of  that 
body, — in  which  Baker  of  Oregon  flashed  out  even  more  than 
usual  of  his  patriotic  eloquence ;  and  white-haired,  sad  old 
Crittenden  of  Kentucky  moaned  out  words  of  fear  for  the 
nation,  that  have  since  been  but  too  truly  realized  ;  and  Mason 
of  Virginia  showed  more  boldly  than  ever  the  cloven  foot  of 
the  traitor  who  would  not  have  reconciliation  at  any  price ; 
and  Douglas  rose  above  his  short  stature  in  alternately  lash- 
ing one  and  the  other  of  those  whom  he  believed  to  be 
equally  enemies  to  his  type  of  conservatism.  No  one  who 
sat  out  that  session  will  ever  forget  it — but  enough  of  this, 
which  should  be  written  and  not  spoken. 

"  Of  course  after  dinner  that  day  I  went  down  to  the 
Hotels  on  the  Avenue,  to  take  a  peep  at  the  political  baro- 
meter and  see  what  was  the  prospect  for  violence  on  the 
morrow.  It  was  a  dark  and  stormy  one.  Most  of  the 
avowedly  Southern  element  had  disappeared  from  the  street, 
and  there  were  not  many  of  the  secession  cockades  to  be  met ; 
but  a  few  were  flaunted  by  beardless  young  men  who  should 
that  day  have  been  arrested  and  thrown  into  the  Old  Capitol; 
and  every  foot  of  space  in  Willard's  and  the  other  leading 
houses  was  full  all  day  long  of  a  moving,  surging,  anxious 
and  excited  crowd,  all  talking,  nobody  listening,  everybody 
inquiring,  many  significant  hints,  a  few  threats,  an  occasional 
quarrel  and  the  interference  of  the  police,  but  not  much  vio- 
lence and  no  bloodshed.  The  evening  shut  down  stormy,  as 
to  the  national  atmosphere,  and  I  went  home  to  supper  im- 
pressed with  the  belief  that  the  morrow  could  not  pass  oif 
quietly — a  belief  strengthened  by  the  fears  of  Scott,  which 
were  shown  in  the  calling  out  of  the  volunteer  militia  in 
large  force, — by  the  tap  of  the  drum  and  the  challenge  of  the 
sentry,  which  could  be  heard  all  around  Capitol  Hill, — 
and  by  the  knowledge  that  files  of  regulars  were  barracked 
at  different  places  on  the  Hill,  ready  for  service  in  the  morn- 


•       SHOULDER-STRAPS.  37 

ing  and  so  posted  as  to  command  every  avenue  of  ingress  to 
tin-  inauguration. 

"One  of  the  high  winds  which  belong  to  the  normal  condi- 
tion of  Washington  began  blowing  at  dark,  and  it  increased 
to  a  gale  during  the  evening,  rattling  shutters,  creaking  signs 
and  tilling  the  air  with  clouds  of  blinding  dust  which  went 
whirling  around  the  Capitol  as  if  they  would  bury  it.  This 
added  materially  to  the  appearance  and  feeling  of  desolation, 
especially  when  the  white  stone  being  worked  for  the  Exten- 
sion would  gleam  and  disappear  through  the  cloud,  and 
suggest  graveyards  and  monuments  for  the  national  greatness 
that  seemed  to  be  falling.  Then  at  dusk  we  had  the  report  that 
several  hundreds  of  armed  horsemen  had  been  discovered  by 
one  of  Scott's  scouts,  lying  in  wait  over  Anacosti,  and  ready 
to  make  a  descent  upon  the  doomed  city  the  moment  that  it 
should  be  buried  in  slumber.  Many  doubted  this  report,  but 
some  believed  it ;  and  I  have  an  impression  that  hundreds 
went  to  bed  in  Washington  that  night  with  a  lingering  doubt 
whether  they  would  not  be  involved,  before  morning,  or  at 
all  events  before  the  noon  of  the  next  day,  in  such  scenes  of 
violence  and  bloodshed  as  the  continent  had  never  yet  wit- 
nessed. 

"  I  went  over  to  the  Capitol  after  tea,  and  took  the  place 
that  had  been  kindly  kept  for  me  in  the  reporters'  gallery  of 
the  Senate.  No  matter  what  occurred  there — history  has 
made  it  a  part  of  our  painful  record,  and  that  is  quite 
sufficient.  It  was  between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, Crittenden  had  just  concluded  his  heart-breaking  appeal 
to  the  North  to  be  generous  and  not  let  the  Union  go  by 
default,  and  Baker  had  just  closed  his  noble  appeal  to  the 
new  dominant  party  (of  which  he  was  one)  not  to  peril  a  nation 
by  the  adoption  of  the  old  Roman  cry  of  '  Vae  Victvi,'' — when  I 
left  the  Senate  gallery  for  an  hour,  intending  to  return  when 
I  had  breathed  for  awhile  outside  of  that  suffocating  atmos- 
phere. I  passed  to  the  front  through  the  entrance  under  the 
collonade,  and  was  just  about  to  step  out  into  the  open  air, 
when  a  voice  arrested  me.     Surely  I  had  heard  it  before. 

"'Straws  against  a  whirlwind!'  I  heard  it  say.  'The 
work  is  already  done,  and  no  human  power  can  undo  it !' 


JO  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

•  '  I  yet  believe  that  the  Union  can  be  saved  by  the  adop- 
tion of  the  plan  proposed  by  Crittenden  V  said  the  other 
voice.  'Mason  is  right  when  he  says  that  Virginia  will  join 
the  seceding  States  if  no  concession  is  made  ;  but — ' 

"A  laugh,  deep,  sonorous,  and  yet  hollow  and  mocking, 
broke  out  from  the  lips  of  the  tirst  speaker,  and  rung  through 
the  arches — such  a  laugh  as  we  may  suppose  to  have  rung 
from  the  bearded  lips  of  the  Norse  Jarl  when  the  poor  Viking 
asked  his  daughter's  hand  and  the  father  intended  to  stun  if 
not  to  kill  him  with  the  bitter  scoff.  I  had  heard  that  laugh 
before,  more  moderately  given,  and  minus  the  accompaniment 
of  the  rushing  wind  without  and  the  ringing  of  the  hollow 
arches  within.  It  was  that  of  Dexter  Ralston,  and  I  now 
detected  that  he  and  his  companion  were  standing  just  within 
one  of  the  embrasures,  so  as  to  be  partially  sheltered  from 
the  wind,  and  I  could  trace  their  outlines.  Ralston  was  en- 
veloped in  a  large  cloak,  and  wearing  his  inevitable  broad 
hat ;  and  his  companion  seemed  much  smaller,  dressed  in 
dark  clothes,  and  wearing  the  usual  'stovepipe.1  I  had  no 
intention  to  play  listener,  but  there  really  did  not  seem  to  be 
any  wish  for  privacy  on  the  part  of  the  man  who  could  laugh 
in  that  manner ;  and,  at  all  events,  I  stood  still  in  the  door- 
way and  listened  to  the  discussion  of  that  topic,  as  I  might 
not  have  done  to  another. 

"  '  Well,  what  does  the  laugh  mean  V  asked  the  other,  in  a 
tone  that  did  not  indicate  remarkable  good  humor,  when  the 
sound  had  ceased. 

"  'Excuse  me,  I  was  not  laughing  at  youP  said  Ralston, 
1  but  at  the  blind,  besotted  fools  who  believe  that  they  hold  in 
their  hands  the  destinies  of  this  Republic,  and  who  really 
have  no  more  power  over  them  than  so  many  children  play- 
ing at  marbles  !  Hear  Crittenden  and  Baker  begging  and 
pleading  within  there,  to  save  what  is  lost ;  and  Mason,  the 
sly  old  fox,  threatening  them  with  what  is  already  done  !' 

u  '  What  do  you  mean  ?'  asked  the  other  ?     '  Virginia — " 

"'Virginia  has  seceded!'  spoke  Ralston,  with  an  accent 
that  sounded  like  a  hiss.  I  do  not  to  this  moment  know 
whether  it  expressed  triumph  or  anger. 

"  '  Seceded  !'  spoke  the  other,  startled,  as  was  evident  from 


S  11  V  u  1>  D  B  R  -STRAPS.  39 

his  voice.  As  far  myself,  I  was  trembling  like  a  leaf,  for  I 
felt  that  the  words  were  true,  that  the  treason  was  already 
unfathomable,  and  that  the  Capitol  was  tumbling  down  about 
my  ears  long  before  it  was  finished. 

u  ?  Seceded  ?  Yes,  I  spoke  the  word  I'  said  Ralston,  'and 
you  are  not  very  likely  to  believe  that  I  am  mistaken,' 

u  '  Xo,  no,  certainly  not  I'  replied  the  other,  in  a  tone  of 
energetic  disclaimer  which  showed  that  he  knew  why  Ralston 
was  not  deceived.  '  But  then,  if  this  is  so,  why  does  Mason 
remain,  and  why  is  the  fact  kept  in  the  dark  V 

11  'To  gain  time/1  answered  Ralston,  '  and  to  procure  more 
arms.  Virginia  is  a  '  loyal  State,'  and  arms  may  be  shipped 
to  her,  wThile  they  cannot  to  the  States  that  are  known  to 
have  seceded.  You  can  guess  that  the  arms  go  further  south 
almost  as  fast  as  they  reach  Richmond,  and  that  Colt's  pistols, 
especially,  will  pretty  soon  be  beyond  the  reach  of  many  men 
who  live  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line.  Do  you  under- 
stand now  V  he  concluded. 

"  '  Humph  !  Yes,  I  begin  to  know  something  more  than  I 
did  a  while  ago  !'  answered  the  other.  '  Then,  as  you  say, 
all  that  is  going  on  in  yonder  is  a  farce,  and — ' 

" '  And  to-morrow's  proceedings  will  be  a  more  notable 
one  !'  Ralston  broke  in.  '  Some  of  them,  I  believe,  have 
been  afraid  of  violence  to-morrow.  No  fear  of  that — the 
game  is  to  be  played  differently,  and  it  is  not  yet  ripe  for 
blood.     Well,  I  have  had  enough  of  it.     Good-night  1' 

"At  the  word  Ralston  stepped  out  from  the  arch,  and  his 
companion  followed  him.  By  the  lamp-light  in  front  I  caught 
a  view  of  the  face  as  the  former  went  out,  and  saw  that  I  had 
not  been  mistaken  as  to  the  voice.  I  had  intended,  when  I 
first  knew  it  was  Ralston;  to  accost  him  before  he  left,  but  I 
had  now  lost  the  desire,  while  my  head  was  in  that  whirl  and 
his  own  position  seemed  to  be  so  ambiguous.  lie  stepped 
toward  the  gateway,  and,  I  believe,  entered  a  carriage  and 
drove  off.  The  other,  whose  face  I  recognized  by  the  lamp- 
light to  be  that  of  a  certain  New  York  Congressman  of  more 
than  doubtful  antecedents,  went  back  again  the  moment  after, 
and  I  suppose  returned  to  the  Senate  Chamber. 

"  As  for  myself,  I  may  say  that  within  half  an  hour  after, 


40  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

late  as  it  was,  I  had  placed  myself  in  communication  with  a 
leading  member  of  the  new  party  in  power,  with  whom  I 
happened  to  be  well  acquainted  and  who  was  well  known  to 
have  the  ear  of  the  new  President,  even  if  he  did  not  receive, 
within  the  next  week,  the  portfolio  of  a  Cabinet  officer.  I 
need  not  say,  at.  present,  whether  he  received  the  Cabinet 
appointment  or  not,  as  it  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence  to  my 
story.  Without  mentioning  any  names,  I  told  him  what  had 
fallen  under  my  notice,  and  gave  him  my  opinion  that  Gov- 
ernment ought  to  act  as  if  Virginia  had  already  seceded.  He 
thanked  me  for  the  trouble  I  had  taken,  and  for  my  earnest- 
ness ;  said  that  if  the  assertion  was  true,  it  would  be  highly 
important,  as  guiding  the  immediate  policy  of  the  adminis- 
tration ;  but,  pshaw  ! — and  the  whole  story  is  that  he  did  not 
believe  it.  Of  course  the  new  administration  did  not  act  as 
if  Virginia  had  seceded  ;  the  Rebels  were  allowed  to  gather 
arms  at  will  and  at  leisure,  Fortress  Monroe  came  very  near 
to  falling  into  their  hands,  and  Xorfolk  Navy  Yard  did  so, 
with  the  destruction  of  half  our  best  vessels,  and  ten  millions 
of  dollars  worth  of  Government  property — all  which  might 
have  been  avoided  if  they  had  taken  a  hint  from  a  fool. 
Everybody  understands  now,*  that  Virginia  had  formally 
seceded  before  the  inauguration,  and  that  she  played  loyal 
for  the  very  purposes  indicated  by  Ralston. 

"Now,"  Leslie  concluded,  "you  know  as  much  of  Dexter 
Kalston  as  I  do.  And  I  think  }rou  will  quite  agree  with  me 
that  he  is  one  of  the  last  men  I  could  have  expected  to  meet 
in  the  streets  of  New  York  at  the  present  moment,  when 
'martial  law  is  so  prevalent  and  Fort  Lafayette  so  con- 
venient." 

"  Humph  !"  said  Harding,  getting  up  from  the  bed  where 
he  had  lounged  so  long,  examining  his  watch  to  see  that  it 
was  nearly  midnight,  and  lighting  a  fresh  cigar  to  go  home. 
"  Humph  !  well,  what  do  you  make  of  him  ?  A  leading 
traitor,  deep  in  the  counsels  of  Jeff.  Davis,  Yancey  and  Com- 
pany ?"' 

"  Humph  !  ;  said  Leslie  in  return,  "  what  else  can  he  be  ?" 

*  September,  1S62. 


SHOULDER- ST  It  ATS.  41 

"Or  a  Virginia  Unionist,  faithful  among  the  faithless,  and 
too  brave  to  be  afraid  anywhere  ?"  suggested  Harding. 

"Ah  !"  answered  Leslie,  in  that  tone  which  suggests  a  new 
idea,  or  the  corroboration  of  an  old  one. 

"  Or  a  trusted  agent  of  the  Federal  Government,  giving 
up  old  prejudices  for  the  sake  of  patriotism,  and  better  ac- 
quainted with  Seward  than  Slidell — eh  V 

"By  George!"  exclaimed  Leslie,  "there  is  something  in 
that  idea  !     He  must  be  one  of  the  three — but  which  V 

"  That  we  may  know  better  one  of  these  days,"  said  Hard- 
ing, as  Leslie  accompanied  him  out  to  the  street.  "  Mean- 
while he  is  certainly  a  most  singular  person,  and  I  shall  not 
be  sorry  to  know  more  of  him,  whether  as  friend  or  foe  to 
the  nation  !" 

How  soon  and  how  remarkably  his  wish  was  fulfilled,  to 
some  extent,  we  shall  see  hereafter. 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  Invalid  and  the  Wild  Madonna — A  Brave  Heart 
Beating  the  Bars  of  its  Prison — Odd  Comfort  and 
Doubtful  Consolation — The  Dawn  of  a  Terrible  Sus- 
picion. 

In  the  neat  and  tastefully-furnished  back  parlor  of  a  house 
on  West  3 — th  Street,  one  afternoon,  at  very  nearly  the  same 
period  mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter — the  latter  part  of 
June,  1862 — lay  on  the  sofa  a  young  man,  of  perhaps  twenty- 
five,  with  a  countenance  that  would  have  been  strikingly 
handsome  if  it  had  not  been  drawn  and  attenuated  by  suffer- 
ing. He  had  a  well-chiselled  face,  clear  blue  eyes,  and  light- 
brown,  curling  hair,  closely  shaven  of  beard  or  moustache  ; 
still  showing,  spite  of  sickness,  the  manly  nature  that  lay 
within,  and  which  always  makes,  when  it  radiates  outward, 
a  pleasanter  picture  for  the  eye  of  a  true  woman  than  can  be 


42  S  U  O  U  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 

supplied  by  even  high  health  and  the  most  perfect  physical 
beauty  without  it.  The  limbs,  extended  upon  the  sola  as  he 
lay,  though  a  little  attenuated  like  the  faee,  showed  that  they 
were  well-formed  and  athletic.  And  the  hand,  drooping  ovef 
the  side  of  the  couch,  though  too  thinly  white  to  suggest  a 
love-pressure,  indicated,  in  the  taper  of  the  fingers,  and  the 
fine  round  of  the  back,  without  any  coarse  protruding 
knuckles,  what  a  handsome  little  Napoleonic  hand  it  must 
have  been  when  the  owner  was  in  full  health  and  the  life- 
blood  coursing  freely  through  his  veins. 

By  the  appearance  of  the  little  back  parlor,  it  seemed  to 
be  half  sick-room  and  half  study,  for,  in  addition  to  the  sofa 
and  an  easy-chair,  there  was  a  well-filled  book-case,  in  wal- 
nut, and  a  writing-desk  open  on  a  small  table,  with  blank 
paper,  some  manuscripts,  pens,  ink,  and  a  book  or  two  lying 
open,  as  if  the  occupant  had  been  writing  not  long  before, 
and  lain  down  from  pain  and  weariness,  without  waiting  to 
replace  his  writing  materials  in  their  proper  position. 
Through  the  open  door  of  a  small  room  adjoining,  some 
pieces  of  bed-room  furniture  could  be  seen,  showing  that 
when  the  invalid  wished  to  find  more  complete  repose,  he 
could  do  so  without  painful  removal  to  any  distance.  Close 
by  his  side  lay  a  daily  newspaper  fallen  upon  the  floor,  with 
the  sensation-headings  of  war-time  displayed  at  the  top  of 
one  of  the  columns  ;  and  in  his  hand  he  held  a  palm-leaf  fan, 
with  which  he  had  apparently  been  trying  to  wave  off  some 
portion  of  the  sultry  heat  of  the  afternoon.  At  length  the 
fan  grew  still,  the  weak  hand  fell  down  on  his  breast,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  dropping  away  into  quiet  slumber. 

Suddenly  a  strain  of  martial  music  floated  through  the  open 
windows — at  first  lowT  and  gentle,  then  bursting  loud  and 
clear,  with  the  rattle  of  drums,  the  screaming  of  reeds  and 
the  clash  of  cymbals,  as  a  band  came  nearer  along  the 
avenue  and  approached  the  corner  of  the  street.  The  inva- 
lid's face  lit  up — he  made  a  motion  to  rise  hastily  from  the 
sofa — a  sudden  spasm  of  pain  crossed  his  countenance,  and 
he  fell  back  exhausted,  with  a  slight  cry  which  instantly 
brought  the  sound  of  sliding  doors  between  the  little  back 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  43 

parlor  and  the  largo  room  that  adjoined  it  in  front,  and  sent 
a  pair  of  light  feet  flying  into  the  room. 

"Trying  to  get  up  again,  eh,  old  fellow?  I  know  you! 
Couldn't  lie  still  when  that  music  was  going  by  !  Now  you 
great  big  boy,  you  ought  to  know  better  !"  Such  were  tho 
words  with  which  the  young  girl  greeted  the  sufferer,  as  she 
dropped  down  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the  sofa  and  took 
ono  of  his  hands  in  both  hers. 

"Yes,  Joe,  I  was  trying  to  get  up  and  listen  to  the  music," 
was  the  reply.  "  You  know  how  I  have  always  loved  the  brass 
band,  and  how  it  seems  to  rack  my  frame  even  worse  than 
disease,  just  now  !  See  what  a  wreck  I  am,  when  I  cannot 
even  attempt  to  rise  from  the  sofa  without  screaming  in  that 
manner  and  alarming  the  house  !" 

"  Oh,  never  mind  alarming  the  house  !"  replied  the  girl, 
whom  he  had  called  "  Joe,"  the  very  convenient  and  popular 
abbreviation  of  the  Christian  name  of  Miss  Josephine  Harris. 
She  was,  it  may  be  said  here,  an  almost  every-day  visitor 
from  the  house  of  her  widowed  mother,  a  lady  in  very  com- 
fortable circumstances,  living  not  many  blocks  away  up-town 
from  the  residence  of  the  Crawfords.  In  ordinary  seasons 
Joe  and  her  mother  (the  young  lady  is  made  to  precede  the 
other,  advisedly) — had  a  habit  of  getting  away  from  the  city, 
early  in  the  season,  to  one  of  the  watering-places  or  some 
cool  retreat  in  the  country ;  but  this  year  perhaps  the  illness 
of  Richard  Crawford  had  something  to  do  with  retaining  at 
least  the  daughter  late  in  town.  "  The  house  can  get  along 
well  enough — it  is  you  that  is  to  be  taken  care  of,  and  I  should 
like  to  know,  Dick  Crawford,  how  any  body  is  going  to  do  it 
if  you  do  not  manage  to  moderate  your  transports  and  lie 
still  when  you  have  not  strength  to  do  any  thing  else  !" 

How  her  tongue  ran  on,  and  what  a  tongue  she  had  !  Not 
a  bit  of  sting  in  it,  except  when  she  was  fully  aroused  to 
anger,  and  then  it  would  suddenly  develope  the  faculty  of 
morally  flaying  her  victim  alive,  with  words  of  indignation 
that  tumbled  over  each  other  without  calculation  or  order,  in 
the  effort  to  escape  the  tears  of  vexation  that  were  sure  to 
follow  close  behind.  At  such  moments  Joe's  tongue  was 
actually  cruel,  though  without  premeditation;  at  other  times 
3 


44  SHOULDEK-STRAPS. 

it  was  simply  a  very  rapid  and  noisy  tongue,  that  spoke  very 
sweet  words  most  of  the  time  and  exercised  an  influence  all 
around  it  that  no  one  could  attempt  to  describe.  But  per- 
haps the  tongue  was  not  alone  concerned  in  the  matter. 
There  may  have  been  something  in  the  rather  tall  and  lithe 
form — the  brown  cheek  with  a  dash  of  color  shining  through 
it  the  moment  she  was  in  the  least  degree  warmed  or  excited 

the  eyes  dark  but  sunny,  wavering  between  hazel  brown 

and  Irish  gray,  and  the  most  difficult  eyes  in  the  world  to  look 
into  and  yet  keep  your  head — the  profile  uneven  and  partially 
spoiled  by  the  nose  being  decidedly  port,  retrousse  and  too 
small  for  the  other  features — the  pouting  red  lips  that  never 
seemed  to  fade  and  grow  pale  as  the  lips  of  so  many  American 
women  do  before  one  half  their  sweetness  has  been  extracted 
by  the  human  bee — the  wealth  of  glossy  black  hair,  coming 
down  on  the  low  forehead  and  plainly  swept  back  in  the 
Madonna  fashion  over  a  face  that  otherwise  had  the  purity 
and  goodness  of  the  Madonna  in  it,  but  very  little  of  her  de- 
votion,— perhaps  there  was  something  in  all  this,  besides  the 
influence  of  her  flood-tide  of  language,  to  make  Josephine 
Harris  the  delight,  the  botheration  and  the  absolute  tyrant 
of  more  than  half  the  persons  with  whom  .-he  was  thrown  in 
contact.  Perhaps  there  was  even  more  than  all,  to  those 
with  whom  she  came  into  closer  intercourse,  in  the  breath 
that  alwavs  seemed  as  if  it  came  over  a  bank  of  over-ripe 
strawberries  dying  in  the  sun,  late  in  summer — and  that 
intoxicated  with  its  aroma  as  rare  old  wine  does  with  its  flavor. 
It  is  not  difficult  to  believe  (par  parenthese)  that  the 
pearls  and  diamonds  that  dropped  from  the  mouth  of  the 
good  little  princess  in  the  old  fairy  story,  every  time  she 
opened  the  ruby  portals  of  her  lips,  dissolved  themselves  into 
air  and  came  out  in  breath  suggestive  of  spice-fields  and 
orange-groves,  and  that  the  toads  and  scorpions  falling  from 
the  mouth  of  her  wicked  sister  manifested  themselves  in  a 
corresponding  rank  and  fetid  odor.  So  bear  with  us,  lady 
of  the  fevered  breath,  if  we  take  the  privilege  of  age  and  long 
sight  to  drink  in  your  flood  of  pleasant  wisdom  from  a  dis- 
tance; and  think  not  your  lover  overbold,  Edie  of  the  Red 


SIIOULDER -STRAPS.  45 

Lips,  if  he  bends  so  near  you  when  you  speak,  that  the  waves 
of  brown  and  the  curls  of  black  even  nestle  together ! 

"Another  sermon,  eh,  Joseph'/"  said  the  invalid,  trying  to 
smile  and  apparently  soothed  away  from  his  pain  by  the 
very  presence  of  the  young  girl.  "Another  sermon  just  be- 
cause I  cannot  always  remember  that  I  am  a  poor  miserable 
wreck !" 

"Miserable  fiddlestick!"  said  Joe,  smoothing  down  his 
hair  with  both  hands  and  accidentally  stooping  down  so  low 
that  her  lips  came  near  enough  to  his  forehead  to  breathe  on 
it  and  send  a  pleasant  creeping  chill  to  the  very  tips  of  his 
toes.  "  I  read  you  sermons,  as  you  call  them,  because  you 
are  very  impatient  and  very  imprudent,  and  because  I  really 
have  no  one  but  yourself  who  is  tied  down  so  as  not  to  ho 
able  to  run  away  when  I  begin  preaching.  Don't  you  see 
that?" 

"Yes,  I  do !"  said  the  invalid,  whom  she  had  unconsciously 
introduced  to  us  in  calling  him  Dick  Crawford — "I  see  I"  and 
his  face  grew  into  a  transient  smile  in  spite  of  himself.  "But 
where  is  my  sister,  and  what  was  the  music  ?" 

"  Two  questions  at  once,  like  all  the  men  !"  the  saucy  girl 
answered.  "  But  go  ahead,  for  asking  questions  won't  hurt 
your  rheumatism.  Bell  has  gone  out  shopping,  I  believe. 
She  discovered  an  hour  ago  that  there  was  a  shade  of  cerise 
ribbon  somewhere  or  other  that  she  had  not  managed  to  get 
hold  of,  and  of  course  she  ordered  the  carriage  at  once  and 
posted  after  it.  As  for  the  music — oh,  the  music  was  a  brass 
band  accompanying  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninetieth  Regi- 
ment. They  are  going  to  leave  to-morrow,  and  they  came 
up  the  avenue  to  receive  a  set  of  colors  from  Mrs.  Pearl 
Dowlas,  the  ugly  old  woman  with  all  that  brown-stone  in- 
cumbrance and  three  flags  in  the  windows,  round  tho 
corner. " 

"  Going  to-morrow  I"  said  the  invalid,  and  the  old  pained 
expression  came  back  to  his  face.  "  Going  to-morrow  !— > 
everybody  is  going  ! — and  I  lie  here  like  a  crushed  worm, 
unable  to  move  from  my  couch,  useless  to  myself  or  to  any 
one  else,  when  the  country  is  calling  upon  all  her  children  to 


46  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

aid  her  !     Pest  on  it !    I  would  trade  life,  hope?,  brains  if  I 
have  any,  every  thing,  for  a  sound  body  to-day  !" 

"And  make  a  great  fool  of  yourself  in  doing  so  !"  was  the 
flattering  response  of  Josephine.  "Now  I  suppose  that 
music  and  my  gabble  have  started  the  mill,  and  we  shall  have 
nothing  else  during  the  rest  of  the  day  than  the  same  old 
weepings  and  wailings  and  gnashings  of  teeth.  Just  as  if, 
because  a  war  exists,  there  was  nothing  else  in  the  world  to 
do  but  to  go  to  the  war  !  Just  as  if  we  did  not  require  some 
attention  paid  to  the  needs  of  the  country  at  home,  as  well 
as  on  the  battle-field  !  Just  as  if  we  did  not  need  that  the 
trade,  and  the  literature — yes,  the  literature  of  the  country — 
should  be  sustained." 

"Pshaw!"  said  Crawford,  impatiently,  and  making  an 
effort  to  turn  over,  with  his  face  to  the  wall. 

"No  you  don't,  old  fellow!"  cried  the  young  girl,  exer- 
cising the  little  restraint  that  was  necessary.  "  You  don't 
get  away  from  me  in  that  manner.  I  will  stop  your  grum- 
bling before  I  have  done  with  you,  by  a  remedy  a  little  worse 
than  the  disease — plenty  of  my  own  gabble  !  I  said  litera- 
ture— do  you  see  that  desk  littered  with  papers,  you  ungrate- 
ful wretch  ?"  (It  will  be  seen  that  Josephine  Harris  had  a 
habit  of  using  strong  Saxon  words,  as  well  as  some  that  were 
"  fast,"  not  to  say  bordering  upon  popular  slang  ;  and  the 
reader  may  as  well  be  horrified  with  her,  and  get  over  it,  first 
as  last.)  "  You  have  sent  out  from  that  desk  words  that  have 
done  more  good  to  the  patriotic  cause  than  the  raising  of  ten 
regiments,  and  yet  you  have  not  the  grace  to  thank  God  for 
giving  you  the  strength  to  do  that  I  You  dare  to  lie  there 
and  call  yourself  useless  !  Out  upon  you — I  am  ashamed  of 
you  !" 

"  Words  are  not  deeds  !"  said  the  young  man,  again  moving 
uneasily. 

"  Words,  when  they  come  from  the  furnace  of  a  true  heart, 
shape  themselves  into  deeds  in  others,"  was  the  reply. 

"  In  the  days  of  the  Revolution,  my  ancestors  did  their 
deeds,  instead  of  shaping  them,"  said  the  invalid.  "  Two  of 
them  dead  in  the  Old  Sugar  House  and  the  prison  ships  at 
the  Wallabout,  and  another  crippled  for  life  at  Saratoga,  bore 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  47 

witness  that  patriotism  with  them  was  no  hollow  pretence. 
And  look  at  the  present.  My  brother  John  going  through 
battle  after  battle  with  Puryea's  Zouaves,  in  Virginia,  like 
a  brave  man  and  a  soidier ;  and  I  lying  helpless  here,  whiJe 
my  cousin  Egbert  has  his  regiment  almost  raised." 

"  Almost,"  said  the  young  girl,  in  a  tone  which  showed  that 
she  did  not  think  he  had  quite  accomplished  that  laudable 
endeavor. 

"And  will  be  going  down  directly,"  Crawford  continued. 

"Yes,  going  down,  clear  down,  that  is  if  he  ever  starts  !" 
commented  saucy  Josephine. 

"  Yes,  I  remember,  you  do  not  like  my  cousin  Egbert," 
said  the  invalid. 

"I  do  not  like  humbugs  anywhere!"  sharply  said  the 
young  girl.  "  Why  don't  you  call  him  '  Eg.,'  as  you  do  some- 
times ?  Then  I  should  be  tempted  to  make  a  few  bad  puns, 
and  to  say  that  in  my  opinion  he  is  not  a  '  good  egg^  but  a 
1  hard  egg^  if  not  a  '  bad  egg,7  and  that  I  hope  if  he  ever  gets 
among  the  Virginia  sands  he  will  come  out  a  '  roast  egg '  or 
a  'cracked  '  one  !" 

"  Shame,  Joe,  what  do  you  mean  !"  said  the  invalid,  really 
pained  by  her  flippancy. 

"  Mean  ?  why,  mean  what  I  say  !"  was  the  answer,  "  and 
that  is  a  good  deal  more  than  most  of  the  people  do  now-a- 
days.  Your  cousin  Egbert  is  a  big  humbug  !  I  never  see 
him  strutting  about,  with  his  shoulder-straps  and  his  red 
sword-belts,  but  I  have  a  mind  to  take  the  first  off  his  shoul- 
ders, with  claws  like  a  cat,  and  use  the  second  to  strap  him 
with,  like  a  truant  schoolboy  !" 

"Why,  Josephine,  Josephine  !"  cried  the  invalid,  still 
more  surprised. 

"  Don't  stop  me  !"  said  the  wild  girl.  "I  have  intended 
for  some  time  to  say  this  to  you,  but  you  have  been  very 
sick,  and  somehow  I  could  not  begin  the  conversation.  Now 
that  it  is  begun,  I  am  going  to  out  with  it,  if  it  costs  a  lawsuit. 
I  do  not  like  that  man,  nor  would  you  if  you  could  know  him 
half  as  well  as  I  do.  In  the  first  place,  I  believe  he  is  a 
coward,  and  worth  no  more  to  the  cause  than  just  what  his 
gimcracks  would  sell  for." 


48  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  Shame  !"  again  said  the  invalid.  "Josephine,  you  arc 
really  going  too  far.  If  he  was  a  coward,  why  would  he 
hare  placed  himself  in  a  position  which  must  by-and-by  be 
one  of  dancer  ?" 

"Bah!"  said  the  young  girl,  "I  do  not  see  that  he  has 
done  any  thing  of  the  kind.  Officers  have  the  right  of 
resigning,  and  some  of  them  have  the  habit  of  skulking,  I 
have  heard.  I  will  bet  my  best  bonnet  against  your  old 
worn-out  slippers  there,  that  if  ever  brought  to  the  test  your 
shoulder-strapped  cousin  would  do  one  or  the  other  !  Be- 
sides— "  and  here  she  paused. 

"Well,  what  is  the  'besides'?"  asked  the  young  man,  a 
little  impatiently. 

"Besides,  he  hates  you  like  a  rattlesnake,  and  would  do 
any  thing  in  his  power  to  get  you  out  of  his  way,"  the  young 
girl  said,  giving  out  the  words  as  if  she  was  performing  a 
painful  operation  and  only  doing  it  under  a  strong  Bern 
duty.  "  Tell  me  :  is  there  any  point  in  which  your  into 
would  run  counter  to  each  other  ?  I  have  seen  daggers  and 
poison  in  that  man's  eyes  when  looking  at  you,  and  when  yuu 
have  not  observed  him  !" 

"Interests? — in  conflict?  Good  heavens,  what  are  you 
saying,  Josephine  ?  Hate  me — he  ?"  and  a  terrible  shadow 
passed  over  the  face  of  the  invalid.  A  moment  before  he  had 
been  unable  to  raise  himself  from  the  sofa,  or  bear  the  least 
motion,  without  agony.  Now,  in  the  excitement  produced 
by  her  words  and  by  some  horrible  doubt  which  they  seemed 
to  have  awakened,  he  forgot  the  pain,  or  did  not  heed  it,  and 
struggled  up  to  a  sitting  posture,  his  hands  to  his  head  and 
the  whole  expression  of  his  face  changed  to  one  of  intense 
mental  suffering. 

"  Mr.  Crawford — Dick  !"  the  young  girl  cried  in  alarm  ; 
"what  has  happened — what  have  I  said  ? — tell  me  :  are  you 
in  sudden  pain  ?■'  and  she  threw  her  arm  around  him  to 
sustain  him  in  his  sitting  position. 

"  Do  not  ask  me  !"  he  said,  hoarsely.  "  I  cannot  speak 
just  now,  but  you  have  agitated  me  very  much.  My  cousin 
— in  his  way — heavens  !" 

At  this  moment,  and  when  the  young  girl,  frightened  at 


B II  O  U  h  D  E  H  -STRAP  S.  49 

what  she  had  done,  scarcely  dared  to  speak  another  word, 
and  was  altogether  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  there  was  a  rattle 
of  carriage  wheels  at  the  door,  the  sound  of  a  latch-key- 
applied  to  the  lock,  then  steps  and  voices  in  the  hall. 

"  Talk  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  and  he  is  not  very  far 
from  your  elbow  I"  said  Josephine,  whose  ears  were  sharper 
than  those  of  the  invalid.  "  I  hear  Bell's  voice  and  that  of 
the  puissant  and  patriotic  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford,  who  has 
evidently  come  home  with  her." 

"His  voice  with  hers,  after  what  you  have  said!"  the 
invalid  gasped.  "  Lay  me  down  quick,  and  hurt  mo  as  little 
as  possible.  I  have  not  strength  to  sit  up,  and  this  pain — 
this  pain — it  drives  me  to  distraction  !"  One  hand  was  still 
at  his  head,  and  the  other  had  fallen,  whether  accidentally  or 
otherwise,  over  his  heart.  Whether  the  one  hand  or  the 
other  covered  the  pain  of  which  he  had  that  moment  spoken, 
was  difficult  to  tell.  One  thing  was  certain — that  something 
in  the  last  few  moments  had  broken  him  down  in  health  and 
spirits,  even  more  than  his  long  previous  sickness.  What 
was  it  ? 

Josephine,  ever  an  excellent  nurse  in  sickness  (spite  of  her 
rapid  tongue),  and  the  one  of  all  a  crowd  who  was  certain  to 
have  the  head  of  the  fainted  woman  on  her  breast,  and  her 
hands  chafing  the  pallid  temples, — assisted  the  invalid  back 
to  his  recumbent  position  as  quickly  and  as  easily  as  possible  ; 
and  at  the  moment  when  she  had  once  more  arranged  the 
pillow  under  his  head  on  the  sofa,  the  glass  doors  between  the 
front  and  back  parlors  slid  gently  apart,  and  Isabel  Crawford 
and  her  cousin  the  Colonel,  who  had  lately  been  the  subject 
of  so  much  speculation  and  agitation,  approached  the  sofa  of 
the  rheumatic.  His  eyes  were  closed,  and  Josephine  was 
standing  at  the  open  window  with  its  closed  blinds.  Still 
she  saw  what  the  new-comers  did  not — a  quick,  convulsive 
shudder  pass  over  the  recumbent  form,  and  the  hand  that  lay 
on  his  heart  close  with  a  nervous  spasm,  as  if  it  was  crushing 
something  hateful  and  dangerous  that  lay  within  it. 

But  the  personal  appearance  of  the  two  who  had  just 
entered,  and  the  after  events  of  that  interview,  must  be 
recorded  in  a  subsequent  chapter. 


50  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CHAPTER    III. 

Mother  and  Daughter — Love,  Hate,  and  Disobedience — 
Judge  Owen  in  a  Storm — Aunt  Martha  and  Her  Record 
of  Unloving  Marriage  and  Wedded  Outrage. 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  picture  upon  which  Mrs.  Maria 

Owen,  wife  of  Judge  Owen  of  the  th  District  Court, 

was  looking  just  at  twilight  of  a  June  evening ;  but  some- 
thing in  that  picture,  or  its  surroundings,  did  not  seem  to 
please  her ;  for  her  comely  though  matronly  face  was  drawn 
into  an  expression  of  displeasure,  and  the  little  mice  about 
the  wainscot,  if  any  there  were,  might  occasionally  have 
heard  her  foot  patting  the  floor  with  impatience  and  vexation. 

The  time  has  been  already  indicated.  The  place  was  the 
back  parlor  of  Judge  Owen's  house,  on  a  street  not  far  from 
the  Harlem  River — the  window  open  and  the  parlor  opening 
into  a  neat  little  yard,  half  garden  and  half  conservatory, 
with  glimpses  over  the  unoccupied  lots  beyond,  of  the  junc- 
tion of  Harlem  River  with  the  Sound,  up  which  the  Boston 
boats  had  only  a  little  while  before  disappeared  on  their  way 
eastward,  and  where  a  few  white  sails  of  trading-schooners 
and  pleasure-boats  could  yet  be  seen  through  the  gathering 
twilight. 

But  this  did  not  comprise  all  the  picture  upon  which 
Mrs.  Maria  Owen  looked  ;  for  in  the  window,  with  the  last 
rays  of  the  dying  daylight  falling  upon  face  and  figure,  sat 
her  daughter  Emily,  listlessly  toying  with  the  leaves  of  a 
book  that  she  had  been  reading  until  the  light  grew  too 
indistinct,  and  with  a  slight  pout  on  her  lip  and  an  expression 
of  dissatisfaction  generally  distributed  over  her  pretty  face, 
which  showed  that  her  own  vexation  and  that  of  her  mother 
had  some  kind  of  connection  more  or  less  mysterious.  The 
face  was  not  only  pretty,  as  every  one  could  see, — but  softly 
rounded,  womanly  and  most  loveable  while  yet  girlish,  as 
only  those  could  fully  realize  who  had  known  something  of 
the  comparative  characters  of  women.  The  eyes  (in  a  better 
light)  were  hazel,  with  a  depth  and  transparency  which  made 


3  H  O  U  L  D  E  R-S  TR  A  P  3.  51 

the  very  thought  of  a  mean  action  in  her  presence  apparently- 
impossible  ;  the  cheek  that  showed  against  the  fading  light 
had  been  rounded  to  perfection  in  the  soft  atmosphere  floating 
about  eighteen,  as  a  poach  is  rounded  and  colored  by  the 
genial  air  and  sunshine  of  late  summer  ■  the  heavy  masses 
of  hair  that  had  partially  fallen  out  of  their  confinement  and 
swept  down  to  her  shoulders,  were  scarcely  darker  than  nut- 
brown  ;  and  the  hand  toying  with  the  book  would  have 
shown,  even  without  a  better  glimpse  of  the  half  recumbent 
figure,  that  that  figure  was  of  medium  height,  fully  rounded 
and  delicately  voluptuous.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that 
Emily  Owen  knew  quite  all  this  of  herself.  Some  others 
realized  all  her  perfections,  however,  as  will  more  fully  and 
at  large  appear  (to  use  the  conve}- ancers'  phraseology)  ; 
and  for  the  purposes  of  this  narrative  it  is  necessary  to  have 
the  lady  distinctly  before  us. 

And  now  what  had  caused  the  shadow  on  the  matronly 
face  of  Mrs.  Owen,  and  the  pout  on  the  red  lip  of  Emily  ? 
The  old — old  story:  told  over  at  some  period  or  other  in 
almost  every  household  on  earth.  Old  eyes  and  young  eyes, 
seeing  very  differently;  old  hearts  and  young  hearts,  beating 
to  very  different  tunes,  and  informing  the  whole  being  with 
very  different  aspirations.  There  was  a  love — there  was  a 
dislike — and  there  was  a  certain  amount  of  parental  soli- 
citude and  determination — excellent  materials  from  which  to 
construct  a  serious  disagreement  and  an  eventual  family  row. 
Not  Hecate,  when  she  threw  "  eye  of  newt  and  tail  of  frog" 
into  the  infernal  brew  on  the  blasted  heath,  could  have  been 
more  certain  of  the  final  nature  of  her  compound,  than  may 
the  presiding  genius  of  any  "  well  regulated  family"  be  of 
the  eventual  result  when  the  two  acids  of  love  and  hate  are 
brought  chemically  together  in  the  heart  of  budding  woman- 
hood. 

There  was  a  certain  John  Boadlcy  Bancker,  a  man  of  a 
family  exceedingly  respectable,  though  decayed,  who  had 
himself  been  a  speculator  in  lands  and  stocks  and  amassed 
more  or  less  money,  and  who  was  popularly  understood  to 
have  been  intrusted  by  Major  General  Governor  Morgan 
with  the  authority  of  Colonel  and  the  permission  to  raise  a 


52  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  II  -  S  T  B  A  P  S. 

regiment  for  the  war.  There  was  a  certain  Frank  Wallace, 
a  young  man  of  no  particular  family  that  any  one  had 
heard  mentioned,  a  fellow  of  infinite  jest  and  agreeabL 
hut  very  little  money  and  no  commission  at  all  except  to 
make  lore  when  necessary  and  extract  as  much  comfort  as 
possible  from  the  passing  hour, — who  carried  on  a  small 
printing  business  which  just  made  him  a  comfortable  live- 
lihood, in  a  narrow  street  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the 
Museum.  It  was  the  bounden  duty  of  Miss  Emily  Owen, 
seeing  that  the  portly  Judge,  her  father,  and  the  pleasant 
matron,  her  mother,  had  formed  the  very  highest  opinion  of 
one  of  these  gentlemen,  to  fall  in  love  with  him  as  quickly  as 
possible.  Of  course  she  had  contracted  for  him  a  mosUuru-on- 
querable  aversion  !  It  was  her  bounden  duty  to  ignore  the 
other,  even  if  she  did  not  hate  and  despise  him — seeing  that 
he  found  no  other  friend  in  her  family  :  could  there  have 
been  a  stronger  guaranty  for  her  going  madly  in  love  with 
the  scapegrace  ? 

A  moment  after  the  period  when  we  saw  them  sitting  in 
silence  and  mutual  discomfort,  mother  and  daughter  resumed 
the  conversation  which  had  brought  about  that  state  of 
feeling. 

"  You  will  be  sorry  for  what  you  have  said,  Emily  !" 
said  the  mother. 

"  So  will  you,  for  what  you  have  said  !"  was  the  reply  of 
the  daughter,  with  that  species  of  iteration  which  displays 
no  wit  but  a  great  deal  of  aarnestm  .-- 

"  You  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  your  father  has  set  his 
heart  upon  this  match,"  continued  the  mother,  "  and  you 
know  how  much  he  is  in  the  habit  of  allowing  others  to 
oppose  him." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  replied  the  young  girl,  "  and  I  know  one 
thing  more." 

"  Indeed  !  and  what  is  that  ?"  asked  the  mother,  with  the 
slightest  perceptible  shade  of  a  sneer  in  her  voice. 

" — That  both  you  and  my  father  made  a  serious  blunder 
in  bringing  me  into  the  world,  if  you  meant  to  get  along 
entirely  without  opposition  !" 

"  Hoity  toity  !"  exclaimed  the  mother,  quite  as  much  sur- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  53 

prised  as  nettled  at  this  original  an<l  forcible  way  of  stating 
a  domestic  fact.  "  What  has  become  of  your  modesty  ?  Do 
you  mean  to  insult  both  your  lather  and  myself?" 

"  No  1"  said  the  young  girl,  in  a  sharper  tone  and  with 
her  words  cut  off  much  shorter  and  more  decidedly  than  was 
her  habit.  While  those  plump  little  white  lingers  had  been 
toying  with  the  leaves  of  the  book,  sitting  there  in  the 
twilight,  heart  and  hand  had  evidently  both  been  busy,  and 
they  had  produced  any  other  effect  rather  than  making  their 
owner  more  tractable.  "  No  !  mother,  no  !  But  I  tell  you, 
once  for  all,  that  the  match  you  are  talking  of  is  hateful ! 
I  have  tried  to  keep  still  while  the  affair  seemed  at  some 
distance,  but  now  that  you  bring  it  closer  it  fills  my  whole 
being  with  disgust  I  Do  drop  it  if  you  do  not  wish  to  drive 
me  mad  or  make  me  disobedient.  Oh,  mother  !"  and  the 
whole  manner  of  the  young  girl  seemed  to  change  and  melt 
in  a  moment,  as  she  rose  hastily  from  her  chair,  ran  to  that 
on  which  her  mother  was  seated,  threw  herself  on  her  knees 
with  her  arms  around  her  parent,  and  buried  her  face  in  the 
sheltering  lap, — "  oh  mother  !  do  be  my  friend  instead  of 
my  enemy,  in  this  !  I  cannot — indeed  I  cannot  marry  that 
man  !" 

There  are  a  good  many  things  they  think  they  cannot  do — 
these  young  girls — and  they  never  know  themselves  until 
they  are  tried.  Perhaps  it  may  not  always  be  well  to  try 
them  to  their  full  capacity,  however  ! 

What  Mrs.  Maria  Owen  imgl^  have  answered  to  this 
appeal,  under  other  circumstances,  is  uncertain.  She  was, 
or  intended  to  be,  a  good  and  tender  mother,  and  would  have 
cut  off  her  right  hand  rather  than  do  any  thing  which  could 
make  against  the  ultimate  happiness  of  her  daughter ;  and 
she  really,  at  that  moment,  must  have  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  fact  that  the  heart  of  the  young  girl  was  very  much 
interested  in  her  refusal.  But  if  there  was  any  sentiment 
which  the  worthy  woman  entertained  more  deeply  than 
another,  it  was  the  belief  that  Judge  Owen,  her  husband, 
was  the  most  wonderful  man  in  the  world.  She  thought  of 
him  with  pride  when  his  portly  figure  disappeared  down  the 
Steps  of  a  morning,  when  he  was  starting  to  go  to  "  Court." 


5-i  SHOULDEli-bTRAPS. 

She  thought  of  him  with  a  respect  amounting  to  reverence 
when  she  contemplated  him  sitting 

"At  once  mild  and  severe, 
On  his  seat  of  dooming," 

(to  quote  good  old  Esaias  Tegner)  a  local  Ehadamanthus 
from  whose  judgment  there  could  not  be  any  possible  appeal 
(although,  sooth  to  say,  there  were  a  good  many  appeals,  and 
quite  effectual  ones,  from  the  very  unimportant  decisions  to 
which  only  his  authority  extended).  And  when  he  came 
home  at  night,  after  dispensing  justice  for  the  whole  day 
(to  wit — three  hours  on  the  average)  she  looked  with  almost 
holy  reverence  on  his  broad  brow,  under  which  there  must 
lie  such  a  store  of  legal  knowledge,  and  thought  what  a 
blessed  and  honored  woman  she  was  to  have  been  allowed 
to  mate  with  so  much  wisdom  and  so  much  dignity. 

Does  this  sound  like  sneering  at  the  wife's  pride  and  de- 
votion ?  If  so,  let  there  be  a  word  to  qualify  it.  God  knows 
that  there  are  not  too  many  women  who  respect  and  look  up 
to  their  husbands,  and  that  the  sanctity  and  the  happiness  of 
the  domestic  circle  would  be  much  seldomer  invaded  if  there 
was  more  of  this  feeling.  Only  those  poor  women,  on  an 
average,  make  such  terrible  mistakes  as  to  the  instances  that 
should  demand  or  allow  the  full  indulgence  of  this  pride;  and 
miserable  humbugs  are  looked  up  to  and  worshipped  so 
much  of  the  time,  while  tfcose  who  could  deserve  and  should 
command  that  feeling  are  treated  with  indifference  or  even 
despised  by  inferior  minds  to  which  they  have  been  mated  ! 
They  do  not  "  manage  these  things"  any  "  better  in  France," 
probably ;  but  they  manage  them  ill  enough  in  republican 
America  at  about  this  period,  and  the  result  is  not  a  pleasant 
or  even  a  moral  one  ! 

The  check  to  any  possible  motherly  concession  to  the 
weakness  of  Emily,  which  Mrs.  Owen  experienced  on  this 
occasion,  arose  from  the  coming  of  the  ponderous  man  of  law, 
whose  heavy  footstep  and  loud  cough  were  at  that  moment 
heard  in  the  hall.  Had  the  daughter  been  less  absorbed 
than  she  was  in  her  own  feelings,  she  too  might  have  heard 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  55 

those  tokens  of  the  Judge's  presence  ;  and  had  she  been  as 
wise  as  her  mother,  any  further  discussion  of  the  sub- 
ject would  have  been  stopped  and  the  coming  catastrophe 
averted. 

Either  she  did  not  observe  or  she  was  too  much  absorbed 
to  heed  who  heard  her,  for  at  the  very  moment  when  Judge 
Owen,  a  large-framed,  portly,  broad-browed,  iron-gray  man  of 
fifty,  entered  the  back  parlor  and  stood  full  in  the  presence  of 
his  wife  and  daughter,  the  latter  was  looking  up  to  her  mother 
frith  clasped  hands  and  half  sobbing  out  a  repetition  of  her 
former  declaration:  "I  cannot — indeed  I  cannot  marry  that 
man!" 

"Hush  !  Emily,  hush  ! — no  more  of  this  !"  said  the  mother, 
half  in  hope  that  her  husband  might  not  have  caught  the 
words  ;  but  she  was  widely  mistaken.  The  ears  so  much  in 
the  habit  of  listening  to  the  least  quaver  in  the  tone  of  a  wit- 
ness's voice,  were  not  to  be  trifled  with  in  the  present  instance. 

"  Hey  ?  What  is  this  V  asked  the  Judge,  in  a  tone  that 
admitted  of  no  trifling  in  the  answer. 

"Nothing — that  is — Emily  was  talking  of — "  began  the 
abashed  wife,  with  a  stammer. 

"Of— I  know,"  said  the  father,  who  had  heard  quite 
enough  of  his  daughter's  words  to  know  without  asking,  and 
who  was  more  behind  the  curtain  than  his  wife,  in  some 
other  respects.  "I  heard  what  this  school-girl  muttered. 
She  cannot  marry  the  man  whom  I  intend  she  shall  marry, 
and  she  has  taken  this  opportunity,  when  she  supposed  I 
was  absent,  to  acquaint  you  with  her  determination." 

"Not  determination,"  said  the  mother,  willing  to  smooth 
affairs  as  much  as  possible — "say  wish.'' 

"  No,  mother,  determination  !"  said  the  young  girl,  spring- 
ing to  her  feet  with  an  energy  which  was  really  not  an  ordi- 
nary part  of  her  nature, — under  the  impression  that  now,  if 
ever,  was  the  time  to  give  utterance  to  her  true  sentiments. 
"  Father  used  the  right  word — determination  !  I  cannot 
marry  Boad  Bancker,  and  I  won't !     There  you  have  it  1" 

There  was  nothing  classic  or  even  romantic  in  the  young 
lady's  mode  of  expression,  or  the  nickname  which  she  be- 
stowed upon   her  would-be   lover;    but  they  were  at  least 


56  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

natural,  which  is  something  gained  in  this  world  of  pre- 
tences and  deceptions. 

"You  won't?  and  why,  I  should  like  to  know?*'  broke  in 
the  Judge,  for  the  moment  surprised  out  of  the  violence  that 
might  have  resulted,  by  the  very  audacity  of  the  declaration. 

11  Because  he  is  hateful,  and  ugly,  and  I  do  not  like  him, 
and — "  answered  Miss  Emily,  with  a  charming  return  to  the 
system  of  the  school-girl  which  she  had  just  been  called  by 
her  father. 

"  Silence  \n  thundered  Judge  Owen,  who  had  recovered 
from  the  blow  and  thought  that  he  had  a  refractory  juryman 
or  an  insolent  attorney  to  put  down.  "SilencC  !  I  have  had 
enough  of  this.  John  Boadley  Bancker  is  the  man  I  have 
selected  for  your  husband.  He  belongs  to  an  excellent 
family,  has  wealth  enough  to  keep  a  wife  in  comfort  and 
even  luxury,  and  has  lately  proved  himself  a  true  patriot  by 
springing  up  at  the  call  of  the  President — "  (Judge  Owen 
had  by  this  time  forgotten  his  indignation,  and  fancied  himself 
for  the  moment  addressing  an  immense  assemblage  at  Union 
Square  or  in  the  Park) — "by  springing  up  at  the  call  of  the 
President,  girding  on  his — " 

« — Shoulder-straps!"  put  in  Mis3  Emily,  who  had  re- 
covered from  her  agitation  and  began  to  be  mischievous  the 
moment  her  father  began  to  be  didactic  and  ponderous. 
Whether  he  heard  the  interpolation  or  not,  is  somewhat 
doubtful. 

" — Girding  on  his  sword,"  the  Judge  went  on,  "and 
marching — " 

" — Up  and  down  Broadway!"  put  in  the  young  girl,  in  a 
second  parenthesis,  not  more  audible  than  the  other. 

"That  is,  he  has  not  marched,  but  is  going  to  march  to  the 
seat  of  war,  to  fight  for — " 

" — The  niggers!"  again  and  finally  interpolated  the  in- 
corrigible, who  had  somehow  managed  to  get  a  peep  behind 
the  curtain  of  national  affairs  and  to  see  towards  what  the 
great  struggle  seemed  tending. 

" — For  the  defence  of  the  country,"  the  Judge  concluded 
his  peroration.  Then  he  went  on  with  the  pith  of  his  remark, 
T,o  the  effect  that  the  girl  who  could  be  mad  enough  and  dis- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  57 

obedient  enough  to  refuse  the  band  of  such  a  man  as  that, 
might  go  to — mumble — mumble — mumble — for  she  could 
never  more  be  daughter  of  his  ! 

By  this  time  Emily  had  recovered  her  equanimity,  and 
almost  her  spirits,  and  her  mother  shared  in  the  feeling  of 
relief,  for  the  explosion  had  not  been  half  so  violent  as  ex- 
pected.  But  there  are  pauses  in  storms,  the  moment  before 
liic  coming  of  the  most  destructive  blasts  of  all,  and  the  tem- 
per of  Judge  Owen  was  gusty.  Miss  Emily  fancied  that  the 
whole  ought  to  be  said  while  the  subject  was  under  discus- 
sion, and,  to  use  a  vulgarism,  she  "put  her  foot  in  it." 

"Boad  Banqker,"  she  said  (she  had  the  common  weakness 
of  supposing  that  the  use  of  a  nick-name  belittled  the  person 
spoken  of) — "  Boad  Bancker  may  be  a  soldier,  but  nobody 
knows  it.  I  know  he  is  a  fool ;  and  he  is  a  miserable  hum- 
bug, pretending  to  be  a  young  man,  when  he  is  as  old  as 
you,  Pa  !" 

If  Judge  Owen  had  a  weakness  unworthy  one  of  the 
shining  lights  of  the  bench,  it  lay  in  thinking  that  his  fifty 
years  were  only  thirty,  and  that  he  was  yet  a  young  man. 
Other  men  than  the  Judge  have  labored  under  the  same 
delusion,  and  found  sick  rooms  and  decrepitude  necessary  to 
disabuse  them.  Probably  nothing  in  his  daughter's  power 
to  utter  would  have  made  him  so  angry.  He  had  only  mut- 
tered before — this  time  he  thundered. 

"  Old  !  You  are  talking  about  age,  arc  you,  you  shameless, 
impertinent  hussy — insulting  me  as  well  as  my  friends,  are 
you  1  I  know  you,  and  by  G — "  (he  was  a  dignitary  of  the 
legal  profession,  and  he  was  speaking  in  the  presence  of  his 
wife  and  daughter ;  but  the  truth  must  be  recorded) — "  I 
know  what  you  are  driving  at,  and  I'll  break  you  of  your 
fancy  or  I'll  break  your  stubborn  neck  !  You  don't  like 
Bancker,  the  husband  I  pick  out  for  you,  because  he  is  not 
a  beardless  boy,  and  you  choose  to  consider  him  old.  And 
you  think  I  will  permit  you  to  encourage  that  miserable 
beggar,  Frank  Wallace,  because  he  is  young!  Let  me  see 
one  more  sign  of  familiarity  between  him  and  yourself,  and  I 
will  kick  him  out  of  the  house,  as  I  would  a  dog — and  you 
may  go  after  him  !    Do  you  hear  me  ?    Xow  look  out I"   And 


58  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  Judge  rang  the  bell  for  the  servant,  scolded  her  for  not 
lighting  the  gas  that  no  one  had  before  wished  lighted,  and 
stormed  out  of  the  room,  leaving  his  wife  to  follow  him,  and 
his  daughter  to  drop  again  into  her  chair  and  muse  over  the 
pleasant  prospect  for  after-life  lying  so  broadly  before  her. 

But  if  the  young  girl  had  passed  through  an  agitating  and 
unpleasant  scene,  and  if  the  prospects  for  her  future  life  had 
been  sensibly  narrowed  within  the  preceding  half  hour,  the 
depths  of  her  being  had  not  been  stirred  as  they  were  to  be 
before  she  slept  Perhaps  she  had  occupied  the  position  of 
depression  iuto  which  she  had  fallen,  in  the  chair  by  the 
window,  with  her  head  upon  her  hand,  for  five  minutes — a 
bitter  sea  of  thought  surging  through  her  mind,  and  her  flash 
of  resolution  so  giving  way  before  her  father's  terrible  anger, 
that  she  felt  almost  ready  to  sacrifice  her  happiness,  life, 
everything,  to  obey  him  and  secure  peace — when  a  hand  was 
laid  gently  upon  her  shoulder,  and  the  quiet  face  of  Aunt 
Martha,  framed  in  its  widow's  cap,  peered  into  her  own. 

"  Oh,  Aunt,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  down  !  I  was  so 
lonely  and  so  wretched  !"  broke  out  Emily,  the  moment  she 
felt  the  touch  and  saw  the  face. 

"I  have  been  down  some  time,  sitting  in  the  front  parlor 
by  the  window,  and  trying  to  make  music  out  of  that  verv- 
badly-cracked  hand-organ  that  was  playing  on  the  other  side 
of  the  way,"  said  the  widow,  taking  her  seat  by  the  young 
girl's  side.  Perhaps  five-and-forty  years  had  passed  over  the 
widowed  younger  sister  of  Judge  Owen,  who  made  her  home 
in  a  quiet  upper  chamber  of  his  house.  But  they  had  not 
much  thinned  her  tall  and  magnificent  form,  or  entirely  de- 
stroyed, though  they  had  completely  subdued,  the  quiet 
beauty  of  her  face,  which  must  once  have  been  strikingly 
like  that  of  her  niece.  She  had  been  in  youth  the  underling 
of  her  family,  as  her  elder  brother  had  been  the  tyrant ;  and 
it  was  perhaps  a  fitting  sequel,  that  at  this  period  of  her  life 
she  should  have  become,  to  some  small  extent,  a  pensioner 
on  his  bounty,  as  well  as  a  peace-maker  in  his  household. 

"You  have  been  in  the  front  parlor  some  time  ?"  echoed 
her  niece,  surprised.     "  Then  you  must  have  heard — " 

"I  heard  quite  enough,"  was  the  answer,  as  Aunt  Martha 


SIIOULDKK-STKAPS.  59 

possessed  herself  of  both  the  young  girl's  hands,  and  finally 
drew  down  the  nut-brown  head  so  that  it  rested  upon  her 
bosom.  "  I  heard  a  few  of  your  words— enough  to  tell  me 
what  are  your  feelings  toward  the  man  whom  they  wish  to 
make  your  husband.  I  heard  your  father's  fierce  resolution, 
and  I  made  my  own." 

"  And  what  was  that?"  asked  the  young  girl,  rising  from 
her  recumbent  position,  and  showing  something  of  the  sur- 
prise she  felt  at  hearing  her  gentle  and  pliant  aunt  speak  of 
forming  resolutions.  She  had  cause  to  be  more  surprised  in 
a  moment. 

"  What  was  my  resolution  ?"  echoed  Aunt  Martha,  "  A 
strange  one,  perhaps,  but  one  quite  as  immovable  as  my  big 
brother's  !" 

"  yes,  yes— tell  me,  Aunt,  dear  Aunt !"  pleaded  Emily,  feel- 
ing that  there  was  some  shadow  of  hope  in  such  words  from 
such  a  source. 

"  My  resolution  ?"  said  the  placid  woman,  placid  now  no 
longer,  but  starting  to  her  feet,  speaking  with  rapid  energy, 
and  seeming,  for  the  moment,  half  a  foot  taller  than  usual — 
"  My  resolution  is  that  you  shall  never  marry  the  man  whom 
I  have  heard  you  say  that  you  loathe  and  detest — not  if 
sacrificing  myself  can  save  you — not  if  I  can  prevent  the 
wrong,  by  even  taking  his  life  !" 

"  Aunt !  Aunt !  what  are  you  saying !"  broke  out  the  young 
girl,  surprised,  and  even  horrified.  "Do  not  say  so,  Aunt, 
for  heaven's  sake  !  I  do  dislike  Col.  Bancker ;  I  cannot 
marry  him  without  misery  ;  but  his  life  !  You  do  not  know 
what  words  you  use." 

"Do  I  not?"  said  the  aunt,  and  there  was  a  bitterness  in 
her  tone  which  her  niece  had  never  before  heard  there,  and 
which  perhaps  no  one  else  had  heard  there  for  many  a  long 
year.  "  Do  I  not  ?  His  life — pshaw  !  what  is  his  life,  or  the 
life  of  any  man,  compared  to  some  other  lives  that  are  sac- 
rificed without  punishment  or  even  the  knowledge  of  any 
crime  being  committed  !" 

"Aunt,  dear  Aunt,  it  is  for  me  that  you  are  saying  this, 
and  you  know  that  I  thank  yon  ;  but  you  are  excited,  you 
are  not  yourself — " 
4 


60  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"I  am  myself — perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  years  !"  said 
the  widow,  the  tones  of  her  voice  still  betraying  the  same 
bitterness.  "  In  the  last  half  hour  I  have  lived  over  again 
half  a  life-time  of  misery.  Close  that  door !"  And  she 
pointed  to  the  door  leading  into  the  front  parlor,  with  a  ges- 
ture of  command  that  shamed  her  brother's  most  forcible 
attempt  at  dignity.  Her  niece  closed  the  door,  and  stepped 
back  to  her  chair.  The  aunt  retained  her  standing  position, 
and  a  part  of  the  time  walked  the  floor  of  the  little  back 
parlor  with  strides  that  the  shorter  limbs  of  Emily  could  not 
have  compassed,  as  she  went  on  : 

11 1  had  you  close  that  door  because  I  did  not  wish  to  speak 
to  the  whole  house  :  though  the  whole  house  might  hear  me 
without  disadvantage  to  themselves.  You  do  not  know  why 
I  am  so  much  excited  :  I  will  tell  you.  That  man — your 
father  and  my  brother — did  an  unwise  thing  in  recalling  the 
past  by  that  brutal  speech  and  that  rough  oath  ;  but  he  did 
recall  it,  and  he  must  take  the  consequences.  I  have  said 
that  you  should  not  marry  that  man  whom  you  detest,  and 
you  shall  not — no  matter  how  I  prevent  it !  But  do  not 
mistake  me,  Emily  !  I  am  not  arranging  that  you  shall 
marry  another  man,  and  one  whom  your  parents  dislike. 
That  is  your  business,  not  mine." 

"  I  will  not  marry  against  my  parents'  will  or  against 
yours,"  said  Emily,  as  her  aunt  paused  for  a  moment — "  only 
prevent  my  marrying  this  man  whom  I  dislike,  without  doing 
any  crime  1" 

"  Hush,  and  listen  to  me  /"  said  the  aunt,  almost  sternly. 
"  Do  you  think  that  it  is  of  yourself  alone  that  I  am  speaking  ? 
No — I  am  thinking  and  speaking  more  of  myself  than  of  you. 
Do  you  guess  the  riddle  ?  No,  you  cannot.  Emily,  7  have 
myself  once  married  a  man  ichom  I  loathed,  and  I  know 
what  it  means!" 

"  You,  Aunt  ?  good  heavens  !"  was  the  pitying  reply  of 
the  young  girl,  while  the  usually  placid  widow,  occasionally 
with  both  hands  to  her  head  as  if  in  severe  suffering,  still 
walked  the  room  as  she  spoke. 

"  You  begin  to  understand  me,  and  you  begin  to  perceive 
how  that  man  threatening  to  marry  you  to  a  man  you  hate, 


S  II  0  U  L  DER-STli  APS.  Gl 

has  opened  again  the  wounds  of  my  own  sacrifice — a  sacrifice 
he  made  nearly  twenty  years  ago — heaven  forgive  him  ! 
Richard  West  was  a  gambler  and  a  libertine.  There  was  an 
indefinable  something-  which  told  me  as  much,  very  soon  after 
I  met  him.  He  was  tall  and  fine-looking,  and  he  had  political 
influence.  My  brother  had  a  motive  for  courting  him.  He 
carried  out  that  object  by  introducing  him  to  me.  I  can 
scarcely  say  that  I  loved  elsewhere,  though  I  certainly  had  a 
preference.  From  the  first  I  had  a  dislike  to  West,  which 
soon  grew  into  absolute  aversion.  Meanwhile  I  was  allowing 
myself  to  be  more  and  more  in  his  company,  and  my  whole 
family,  with  my  big  brother  at  their  head,  were  importuning 
me  to  marry  him.  I  was  a  little  reckless  and  did  not  know 
myself;  and  I  think  it  was  more  to  get  clear  of  his  importu- 
nities and  theirs,  than  for  any  other  purpose,  that  I  at  last 
permitted  myself  to  be  engaged  to  him.  I  hated  to  be  teased 
— I  had  no  other  settled  hope  in  the  world — and  so  I  prom- 
ised to  marry  a  man  whom  I  despised.     Are  you  listening  ?'J 

"  Yes,  dear  Aunt,  listening  with  my  whole  heart  as  well  as 
my  ears  !"  said  the  young  girl,  creeping  up  to  her  as  she  made 
a  momentary  pause,  and  taking  one  of  her  aunt's  hands  in 
both  of  her  own.  Strange  to  say,  the  aunt  did  not  permit 
her  hand  to  be  retained.  She  drew  it  away  as  if  for  the 
moment  she  had  no  care  for  human  sympathy, — and  went  oil 
with  her  agitated  walk  and  her  narration. 

"  I  had  a  shuddering  horror  of  the  marriage,  very  soon 
after  my  engagement  was  formed,  though  I  knew  nothing, 
except  from  my  own  perception,  against  the  character  of 
West.  That  feeling  grew  as  the  marriage  day  approached, 
and  I  found  that  instead  of  schooling  myself  to  meet  with 
calmness  what  was  now  inevitable,  every  day  increased  an 
aversion  which  was  both  mental  and  physical.  I  commenced 
to  make  my  wedding  clothes.  I  began  to  think  that  I  would 
rather  be  making  my  shroud.  And  yet  I  worked  on,  stolidly, 
and  bore  the  caresses  of  the  man  who  was  so  soon  to  be  my 
husband.  He  grew  warmer  and  warmer  in  his  manifestations 
as  the  marriage  day  approached.  I  suppose  he  thought  he 
was  flattering  and  pleasing  me  !  God  help  him,  if  he  did  ! 
1  was  handsome,  I   know  it — and   the   sensualist  began  to 


62  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

gloat  over  the  charms  he  would  so  soon  have  in  possession. 
I  began  to  think  how  soon  the  slimy  worms  would  crawl  over 
me!  At  length  all  this  culminated.  West  was  fool  enough 
to  take  me  one  night  to  the  Old  Park  Theatre,  where  Ellen 
Tree  was  then  playing.  She  played  Julia,  in  "The  Hunch- 
back," and  I  heard  her  make  that  agonized  appeal  to  Master 
Walleye  and  allude  to  the  expected  horrors  of  an  unloving 
marriage-bed.  My  (-yes  were  opened.  I  saw  it  all.  now,  as 
I  had  never  done  before.  It  was  not  alone  my  existence  and 
my  mentality  that  I  must  sacrifice,  but  my  body.  That  too 
was  to  be  given  up !  To  what  horrible  profanation  and 
outrage  was  I  to  be  subjected  !  My  head  grew  dizzy  and  my 
eyes  blind.  I  shared  in  the  torments  of  Julia — I  was  Julia 
herself.  I  was  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  with  hell  beneath 
me  and  devils  goading  me  on  to  the  leap.  I  went  home 
stunned  and  half  crazed.  West  spoke  to  me,  but  I  believe 
that  I  never  answered  him  a  word.  If  I  could  have  killed 
him  suddenly  and  without  reflection,  I  should  have  done  it. 

"  The  next  day  I  implored  my  brother  to  assist  me  in 
breaking  the  hateful  engagement.  He  refused,  insultingly, 
and  threatened  me  with  a  ruined  reputation  and  the  scorn  of 
every  one  who  knew  me,  if,  after  being  so  notoriously  en  ■_ 
to  West,  and  in  his  private  society  so  much,  the  marriage  should 
now  be  broken  off.  I  had  no  one  else  to  whom  to  appeal, 
and  appeal  to  my  bridegroom  would  have  been  worse  than 
useless.  I  could  not  combat  every  thing  and  everybody. 
My  God  !  my  God ! — that  I  should  have  given  up  ! — but  I 
did.  I  went  on  finishing  my  wedding-clothes,  with  only  a 
week  between  me  and  their  use.  Oh  how  I  shuddered  as  my 
needle  ran  over  the  soft  white  laces  and  ruffles  !  They  were 
to  deck  my  dainty  limbs  for  outrage — such  outrage  as  I  did 
not  then  know — and  such  as  you  can  only  dream.  I  only 
saw  before  me  a  vague  horror,  but  that  horror  was  enough  to 
set  me  on  the  dizzy  verge  of  madness,  of  suicide  or  of  murder. 

"A  week  went  by,  and  in  the  presence  of  a  minister  of 
God  I  swore  to  a  lie.  Richard  West  swore  to  another,  for 
he  was  no  more  capable  of  love  than  of  honor.  Then 
followed  what,  woman  though  you  already  are,  I  cannot  tell 
you  of — prostitution,  outrage,  that  left  me  a  poor  dishonored 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  63 

thing — my  womanhood  a  curse,  and  the  creeping  horror  of 
physical  repugnance  to  a  loathsome  touch  my  bridal  portion  ! 
Gtod  forgive  those  who  forced  me  to  this  !    God  forgive  them! 

I  do  not  know  that  I  ever  can  !     Ton  years  afterwards  I 

saw  one  happy  day — the  first  since  my  engagement.  It  was 
when  Richard  West  was  shot  down  in  a  gambling-house  by 
one  of  his  victims,  and  brought  home  dead  ! 

••  Now,  Emily,  you  know,  better  than  any  other  living,  the 
heart  of  the  woman  who  is  supposed  to  be  so  calm  and 
placid  !  Now  you  can  have  some  idea  what  I  have  suffered 
to-night,  when  I  saw  the  same  pit  opening  for  you?  Do  you 
understand  me  ?     Have  I  said  enough  ?" 

"  Enough,  dear,  dear  Aunt,  but  not  one  word  too  much  ! 
I  understand  you,  I  know  you,  now  !  Oh,  save  me,  save  me 
at  any  sacrifice  from  this  marriage !»  And  the  young  girl 
was  sobbing  in  the  arms  of  Aunt  Martha,  who  now  that  her 
story  was  told  grew  her  gentle  self  again,  and  smoothed 
down  the  brown  hair  with  a  promise  of  aid  and  sympathy 
which  was  not  likely  to  be  forfeited 


CHAPTER   IT. 

Another  adventure  of  the  Two  Friends — The  Light  in 
the  Window — A  singular  Spot  on  the  Wall — A  Climb, 
a  Tumble  and  a  Pursuit — How  it  all  Ended  for  the 
Time. 

We  left  Walter  Harding  and  Tom  Leslie,  at  the  conclu- 
sion of  a  former  chapter,  coming  out  from  the  lodgings  of  the 
latter,  on  Bleecker  Street  near  Elm,  Leslie  accompanying 
Harding  out  to  a  car  on  the  Bowery  before  betaking  himself 
to  bed.  "  Man  proposes  but  God  disposes,"  says  the  French 
proverb:  There  is  "a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends,"  even  in 
the  matters  of  going  to  bed  and  getting  into  railroad  cars. 


64  SHOULDER-STRAl'S. 

It  was  somewhat  longer  than  either  had  expected,  before  he 
reached  the  "desired  haven"  of  home  and  a  bed-chamber. 
It  was  past  midnight  when  the  two  friends  reached  the 

Bowery,  and  the  Third  Avenue  ears,  on  one  of  which  Harding 
was  going  up,  were  running  less  frequently  than  early  in  the 
evening.  There  was  not  one  of  the  green  lights  in  Mght 
down  the  Bowery  from  the  corner  of  Bleecker  Street,  and 
the  friends  chatted  a  moment  while  waiting  for  one  to  make 
its  appearance.  Then  they  grew  tired  and  restless,  as  peo- 
ple very  soon  do  who  are  waiting  for  cars  (or  boiling  tea- 
kettles, or  marriage-days,  or  any  thing  of  that  kind)  ;  and 
they  walked  down  to  the  corner  of  Prince  to  meet  the 
tardy  conveyance.  There  was  a  green  light  coining  up, 
some  blocks  down  the  Bowery,  but  it  seemed  to  the  two 
sleepy  fellows  as  if  it  would  never  reach  the  corner.  They 
walked  listlessly  a  block  or  two  down  Prince  Street  toward 
Broadway,  still  arm  in  arm  as  they  had  left  the  house  on 
Bleecker.  They  wheeled  to  walk  back.  Suddenly  the  eyes  of 
Harding  were  attracted  by  the  very  bright  light  in  one  of  the 
upper  windows  of  an  old  brick  house  on  Prince  Street,  large 
and  stately  and  giving  evidence  of  having  once  been  the  resi- 
dence of  some  person  of  fortune,  though  now  a  little  dilapi- 
dated. 

"People  in  that  house  must  have  an  interest  in  one  of  the 
Gas  Companies,"  said  Harding,  "by  the  quantity  of  light  they 
show  at  this  time  of  night !     Why,  the  window  is  all  ablaze  !" 

Tom  Leslie  looked  up,  as  his  friend  spoke.  They  were  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street  from  the  house  in  question,  and 
consequently  had  a  fair  view  of  the  lighted  window.  It  u-as 
very  light  indeed,  a  perfect  flood  of  gaslight  pouring  on  a 
white  curtain  that  partially  covered  the  whole  sash.  Par- 
tially, not  altogether.  Whether  accidentally  or  by  intention, 
it  was  swept  away  at  the  lower  right-hand  corner,  leaving  a 
little  of  the  top  of  the  white  wail  of  the  room  visible,  with 
the  edge  of  the  ceiling.  Was  there  ever  a  man  (or  woman) 
who  did  not  look  in  through  a  half-closed  curtain,  precisely 
because  there  is  no  propriety  whatever  in  doing  so  ?  Willis 
has  made  some  of  his  most  taking  verbal  photographs,  dur- 
ing his  "lookings  on  at  the  war'' at  Washington,  from  the 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  65 

glimpses  caught  of  the  lower  half  lengths  of  notables,  more 
or  less  undressed,  through  windows  supposed  to  be  closed 
against  outside  observation. 

Both  Walter  Harding  and  Tom  Leslie  took  an  eager  look 
up  at  the  white  wall  and  the  edge  of  the  ceiling,  in  the  upper 
chamber  of  the  house  on  Prince  Street.  Harding  either  had 
sharper  eyes  than  Leslie,  or  stood  in  a  more  favorable  posi- 
tion, for  he  saw  what  Leslie  did  not,  and  his  discovery  was 
communicated  in  the  brief  exclamation  : 

"By  Jupiter!" 

"What?"  asked  Leslie. 

"Look!"  said  Harding,  drawing  his  friend's  head  into 
position  for  a  better  view.  "If  that  is  not  a  secesh  flag 
draped  up  near  the  ceiling,  may  I  never  brag  of  my  eye- 
sight again !" 

Tom  Leslie  took  a  nearer  look.  "If  it  is  not  a  secesh 
flag,"  he  said,  "  draped  over  some  kind  of  a  gilded  ornament 
like  a  star,  may  I  never  find  another  opportunity  to  look  at  a 
pretty  girl  through  this  double-barrelled  telescope." 

And  with  the  word  he  had  whipped  out  an  opera- glass 
from  his  procket,  large  enough  to  have  been  formed  out  of 
two  moderate-sized  specimens  of  the  optical  instrument  he 
had  named,  and  levelled  it  at  the  object  on  the  wall.  His 
observations  and  those  of  Harding  through  the  same  power- 
ful instrument  resulted  in  the  same  conclusion.  The  two 
red  bars  and  one  white  one  of  the  Confederate  flag,  with  the 
blue  field  in  the  corner  and  meagre  number  of  stars,  were  all 
plainly  visible,  and  beneath  the  flag  was  a  gilded  circle,  some 
four  or  five  inches  in  diameter,  with  a  radiating  centre. 

"A  nice  house  that,  I  don't  think  !"  was  Tom  Leslie's  not 
very  classical  comment,  as  he  took  the  double-barrelled  tele- 
scope finally  down  from  his  eye,  after  a  second  inspection. 
(It  may  be  mentioned,  in  a  parenthesis,  that  the  Third 
Avenue  car  had  some  time  since  rumbled  by,  and  that  the 
very  existence  of  that  entire  line  of  communication  had  been 
forgotten  by  the  two  friends.)  "Where  is  Provost  Marshal 
Kennedy,  I  wonder?" 

"  Oh,  it  may  not  be  quite  so  bad  as  you  think,"  said 
Harding,  reading  the  whole  of  his  friend's  thought.     "Who 


66  SHOULDER-STRAP?. 

knows  ? — that  Becesh  flag  may  bo  a  trophy  won  by  one  of 
our  soldiers,  and  brought  or  sent  home." 

"Humph!"  said  Tom,  significantly.  "That  won't  do, 
Harding !  If  the  flag  was  a  trophy,  and  in  the  house  of  a  loyal 
man,  it  would  not  be  quite  so  neatly  draped  on  the  wall, 
with  the  lodge  emblem  of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle 
under  it  I" 

"Phew!"  said  Harding,  "is  that  really  the  emblem?" 

"  The  emblem,  and  nothing  else,"  answered  Leslie.  "  These 
is  mischief  in  that  house,  and  the  nest  must  be  looked  after." 

Suddenly,  and  while  the  two  friends  yet  looked,  there  were 
dark  shadows  flung  on  the  white  curtain,  as  if  of  moving  figures, 
and  then  one  shadow,  as  if  of  a  human  arm,  began  to  move 
up  and  down  on  the  curtain  and  kept  moving  steadily. 
Directly  there  was  one  quick  sharp  scream,  followed  by  no 
other  sound,  though  both  listened  intently.  Then  a  figure 
came  to  the  window,  and  apparently  looked  out,  disappearing 
again  in  a  moment  and  leaving  every  thing  as  before. 

"By  George,  I  cannot  stand  this  !"  said  Leslie. 

"  Xor  I,"  said  Harding,  moved  by  quite  a  different  feeling. 
"  I  am  getting  sleepy  and  must  go  home." 

"Must  you?"  said  Tom  Leslie.  "Well,  you  are  not  going 
a  step.  You  cannot  be  spared  just  yet.  Do  you  see  that 
tree  ?" 

Harding  had  seen  the  tree  for  some  minutes — a  tall  one 
with  wide  branches,  standing  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  window. 
But  he  did  not  see  anything  special  in  the  tree,  while  Leslie 
did,  and  that  made  the  great  difference. 

"  I  am  going  on  a  perilous  expedition,"  continued  Leslie, 
in  a  bantering  tone,  but  his  voice  sinking  lower,  almost  with- 
out his  being  aware  of  the  fact,  and  jerking  off  his  boots 
meanwhile  on  the  sidewalk.  "  If  I  never  come  back,  com- 
fort my  bereaved  wife  and  children.  If  I  break  my  neck, 
see  me  comfortably  buried,  without  a  coroner's  inquest  if 
possible." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  asked  Harding,  with  a  faint 
premonition,  however,  of  his  intention. 

"I  am  going  to  get  a  peep  in  at  that  window,"  was  the 
reply,  "  or  I  am  going  to  break  the  most  precious  neck  in 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  67 

America  in  making  the  attempt  I  used  to  be  able  to  climb, 
though  some  years  ago.     Keep  still,  here  goes  I" 

There  seemed  to  be  al  the  moment  no  passers  in  the  street, 

and  Harding's  anxious  gaze  around  showed  no  policeman  in 
the  vicinity.  By  the  time  he  had  fairly  spoken  the  last  words, 
Leslie  had  thrown  off  his  broad  hat,  crossed  the  street,  and 
commenced  climbing  the  tree.  Harding  followed  and  stood 
under  the  tree,  as  if  Leslie  was  going  to  throw  down  apples 
and  ho  must  catch  them.  Leslie  was  a  little  awkward,  but 
hugged  the  hark  handsomely,  and  was  soon  on  a  level  with 
the  window.  Harding  saw  him  distinctly,  by  the  reflected 
light  from  the  window,  clutch  his  arm  around  one  of  the 
main  limbs,  and  throw  his  head  and  body  forward  so  that 
his  face  was  not  more  than  a  foot  from  the  window.  He  had 
not  looked  in  more  than  a  moment,  when  Harding  heard  him 
utter  a  quick,  short  cry,  and  the  next  instant  he  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  regain  his  hold  of  the  tree.  Then  there  was  a  rush, 
a  tumble,  and  he  seemed  to  be  falling.  Harding  threw  him- 
self beneath  him,  and  Leslie  half  slid  and  half  fell  to  the 
pavement,  with  such  violence  as  to  send  both  sprawling  into 
the  middle  of  the  street.  Harding  was  not  much  hurt ;  Les- 
lie seemed  to  be  injured,  and  limped  a  little  as  he  sprang  up. 

"  Are  you  hurt,  Tom  ?  What  made  you  fall  ?"  was  the 
double  question  that  Harding  attempted  to  ask. 

"  My  God  !  can  that  be  possible  ?"  was  the  inconsequent 
answer,  and  his  hand  went  up  to  his  head  as  if  the  organs  of 
thought  were  for  the  moment  disordered. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  did  you  see,  Tom  ?"  was 
Harding's  next  double  question.  Leslie  was  pulling  on  his 
boots. 

"  See  ?  Nothing — every  thing  !  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it 
when  my  brains  get  settled  !"  was  the  reply.  "  I  have  simply 
been  frightened  out  of  my  boots — no,  I  left  my  boots  down 
here.  But  I  was  frightened  out  of  the  tree,  and  came  devil- 
ish near  to  killing  myself  and  you.     Eh,  didn't  I  ?" 

"  Xever  mind  about  that !  Tell  us  what  you  saw  ?"  said 
Harding,  whose  bump  of  curiosity  now  began  to  be  seriously 
agitated. 

"The    red   woman!    witch!    devil!      What    does    it   all 


68  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

mean  fn  was  the  torrent  of  incoherence  which  next  burst 
from  Leslie,  not  affording  Harding  a  very  close  solution  of 
the  mystery,  but  promising  at  Least  something. 

"Well  V  said  the  latter,  expecting  more  They  had  again 
crossed  the  street,  and  stood  opposite  the  house  of  mystery, 
Leslie  was  endeavoring  to  brush  his  soiled  clothes  with  that 
most  difficult  of  all  brushes,  the  hand.  Harding  was  looking 
full  at  the  window,  and  waiting  for  the  further  explanation. 
Suddenly,  a  carriage  whirled  through  Prince  from  the  direc- 
tion of  Broadway,  and  pulled  up  immediately  before  the 
house.  Leslie  stopped  brushing  his  clothes.  At  the  same 
moment,  a  head  was  again  thrust  against  the  window,  and 
immediately  withdrawn.  Then  the  light  against  the  curtain 
dimmed  suddenly.  Leslie  "put  that  and  that  together"  with 
the  celerity  of  a  lawyer  and  the  confidence  of  a  man  of  the 
world.  The  people  in  that  house  were  going  away.  Where  ? 
That  was  something  to  be  looked  into. 

"  You  know  where  the  livery  stable  round  the  corner  is,  on 
Houston  ?»  he  asked  hurriedly  of  Harding. 

"  Yes,-'  was  the  reply. 

"I  am  too  lame  to  run  fast,"  said  Leslie,  speaking  very 
rapidly.  "We  must  follow  those  people,  if  they  go  to  perdition, 
Go  to  the  stable,  quick — do.  There  is  always  at  least  one 
carriage  standing  ready,  and  have  it  here  as  soon  as  money 
can  bring  it.     I  will  watch  meanwhile.     Hurry  !  hurry  !" 

Probably  Harding,  who  was  rather  precise  in  his  ordinary 
movements,  had  not  gone  so  fast  in  ten  years.  He  was 
around  the  corner  before  the  last  words  had  fairly  left  Les- 
lie's mouth — going  as  if  an  enraged  woman  and  three  lively 
policemen  had  been  close  after  him.  Leslie  stepped  across 
the  street  again,  took  a  glance  at  the  number  on  the  lamps  of 
the  hack  as  he  passed,  and  then  ensconced  himself  in  a  de- 
serted doorway  very  near,  to  watch  what  followed.  Every 
moment  that  Harding  was  gone  seemed  an  hour.  Would 
they  come  out  and  get  away,  after  all,  before  the  coming  of 
the  other  vehicle  ?  What  kept  him  so  long  ?  (He  had  been 
gone  about  half  a  minute  !)  Had  there  been,  for  once,  no 
carriage  in  waiting  at  the  livery  ?  or  had  Harding  concluded 
to  go  to  sleep  on  the  road  ?     And  what  the  deuce  did  it  all 


S  II  O  IT  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 


69 


moan— the  fcalf-dozen  persons,  and  one  a  woman  almost  com- 
pletely stripped,  whom  he  had  Been  in  that  moment's  glance 
into  that  upper  chamber?  And  the  red  woman  1— aye,  tha 
red  woman  .'—that  bothered  Tom  Leslie  the  worst,  and  as  he 
had  himself  confessed,  frightened  him. 

It  this  juncture  the  door  of  the  house  opened,  and  a  man 
and  two  women  dame  out.     The  man,  from  his  stature  and 
general  appearance,  and  especially  from  his  hat,  struck  Tom 
as   strangely  like   the   tall   Virginian  whom  they  had    seen 
two  hours  before  on  Broadway.     One  of  the  women  might 
be  the    girl,  Kate;    and  the   third— Leslie    indulged  in  an- 
other  bit   of    a   shudder   as  he  thought   that   possibly   the 
third   might  be   the   red   woman.     They   were    all   muffled 
up",  however,  and  Leslie  dared  not  quit  his  shelter  to  observe 
them  more  nearly.     The  driver  kept  his  seat  on  the  box. 
The  man  opened  the  door  of  the  carriage,  all  stepped  in,  and 
the  carriage -whirled  away  out  into  the  Bowery  and  up  town. 
There  they  were,  going,  gone,  and  Harding  not  yet  returned 
with  the  means  of  pursuit !     Confusion,  vexation  and  every 
cross-grained  word  in  the  language  !     So  thought  Leslie,  as 
he  dodged  out  to  the  Bowery  and  watched  the  disappearing 
carriage.     It  had  not  turned  off  into  any  one  of  the  cross- 
streets,  and  seemed  making  for  one  or  the  other  of  the  forks 
of  the  avenues  at  the  Cooper  Institute.     Half  a  minute  more, 
however,  and  it  might  as  well  be  the  proverbial  "  needle  in 
the  hay-stack"  for  any  chance  they  would  have  of  finding  it 

again. 

Hark  !  yes,  there  came  tearing  hoofs  round  into  I  nnce 
Street  from  Crosby,  and  the  lamps  of  a  carriage  shivered  with 
the  speed  at  which  they  were  going.  The  horses  were  on 
the  run.  It  was  their  carriage  after  all,  for  nobody  else  could 
be  in  such  a  hurry.  Twenty  seconds  brought  the  flying  car- 
riage to  the  comer— a  second's  pause— a  hail  from  each  of 
tho° friends— and  Leslie  was  inside  with  Harding,  and  the 
carriage  was  dashing  up  the  Bowery  about  as  fast  as  two 
good  horses  could  run,  with  Leslie  and  Harding  each  peering 
out  of  the  opened  windows  at  the  side,  to  see  if  they  could 
catch  any  glimpse  of  a  carriage  ahead. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  horses  attached  to  the  hinder 


70  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

carriage,  whatever  may  bare  beeD  the  opinions  of  those 
attached  to  the  one  before, — thought  that  the  rate  of  speed 
was  a  little  rapid  for  a  hot  midnight  in  June  ;  and  certainly 

one  or  two  pedestrians  who  came  near  being-  run  over  at  the 
crossings  just  below  the  Cooper  Institute,  had  an  impr< 
that  some  rebel  prisoner  must  be  running  away  from  Fort 
Lafayette  or  some  government  official  trying  to  stop  one. 
As  Harding  and  Leslie  neared  that  highly  respectable  but 
very  ugly  monument  to  the  profits  of  iron  and  glue  and  the 
public  pride  of  Mr.  Peter  Cooper, — of  course  there  ai 
question,  the  carriage  being  out  of  sight,  which  of  the  two 
branches  it  had  taken.  The  Third  Avenue  being  the  plainer 
road,  Leslie  decided  for  the  Fourth,  and  with  a  shout  to  the 
driver  just  before  they  readied  Tompkins  Market,  the  horses' 
heads  were  turned  in  that  direction,  and  away  they  went  up 
the  comparatively  quiet  avenue. 

At  the  rate  they  were  going  they  soon  overtook  a  carriage, 
as  they  would  have  overtaken  any  thing  less  rapid  than  a 
locomotive  or  a  whirlwind.  It  was  lucky  that  Leslie  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  note  the  number  on  the  hack,  as 
otherwise  they  would  have  been  at  fault  after  all.  As  they 
dashed  by  the  carriage,  which  was  going  at  good  speed,  that 
cosmopolitan  saw  that  the  number  on  the  lamps  was  a  wrong 
one  ;  and  so  they  kept  on.  Another  carriage  was  passed  at 
the  same  speed,  their  horses  by  this  time  dripping  as  if  they 
had  been  plunged  into  the  river,  but  the  driver  of  hack 
No.  2980  going  ahead  under  the  influence  of  a  private  five 
dollars  and  the  promise  of  an  extraordinary  glass  of  brandy. 
At  Twenty-eighth  Street  they  jerked  the  check-string  and 
the  driver  pulled  up.  There  was  nothing  in  sight,  short  of 
the  railroad  tunnel. 

"We  have  lost  them!"  said  Harding,  whose  organ  of 
hopefulness  was  not  so  large  as  that  of  his  friend. 

"  Humph !  maybe  so  I"  was  Leslie's  reply,  his  eyes  peer- 
ing out  of  the  windows  on  all  sides,  meanwhile.  "  One  thing 
is  certain,  that  I  am  not  going  to  bed  until  I  find  that  hack 
and  know  where  it  has  been  to-night !" 

At  that  momeat,  with  better  fortune  than  two  such  wild- 


SHOULDER-STRAP  S.  71 

goose  chasers  deserved,  they  saw  the  lamps  of  a  carriage  flash 
across  Twenty-eighth  Street,  going  np  Lexington  Avenue. 

"  By  George  !  there  they  are  !»  said  the  sanguine  Leslie. 

" Maybe  so!"'  was  the  reply  of  Harding,  echoing  the 
words  his  friend  had  used  the  moment  before. 

A  word  from  Leslie  to  the  driver,  and  away  went  the 
carriage  down  Twenty-eighth  Street  toward  Lexington 
Avenue.  On  the  avenue  there  was  a  carriage  ahead,  driving 
at  good  speed  but  not  at  such  a  headlong  rate  as  their  own 
had  been  pursuing.  Leslie  pulled  the  check-string.  "  Pass 
that  carriage  !"  he  said  to  the  driver,  and  the  horses  sprung 
out  at  full  speed  again.  The  speed  of  the  carriage  ahead 
did  not  increase  :  whoever  occupied  it  probably  had  no  idea 
of  being  pursued.  Before  it  had  gone  two  blocks  further  the 
pursuers  had  passed  it,  and  Tom  Leslie  brought  his  hand 
down  upon  Harding's  leg  with  a  force  that  made  him  wince, 
as  he  saw  the  number  on  the  near  lamp. 

"  Got  them,  by  the  tail  of  the  holy  camel !» 

It  was  indeed  the  same  carriage  that  had  left  Prince  Street 
less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before.  They  were  now  ahead 
of  it,  and  it  would  not  answer  either  to  slacken  speed  so  per- 
ceptibly as  to  let  itj->ass,  or  to  turn  back  to  meet  it.  Either 
course  might  excite  apprehension,  if  there  was  really  any- 
thing worth  watching  in  the  adventure.  A  word  more  to 
the  driver  arranged  all.  They  wheeled  down  Thirty-fourth 
Street  to  Third  Avenue,  drove  rapidly  around  the  two  blocks 
to  Thirty-sixth,  and  came  out  again  on  Lexington,  with  the 
carriage  just  ahead  of  them  and  a  fine  opportunity  to  dog  it 
at  leisure. 

Two  or  three  minutes  afterwards  the  leading  carriage 
wheeled  out  of  Lexington  Avenue  into  East  5 —  Street, 
not  very  far  from  the  Eastern  Dispensary,  which  lias  lately 
so  well  supplied  the  place  of  a  soldiers'  hospital.  It  was 
driving  slowly,  now,  and  unless  some  peculiar  dodge  was 
intended,  Leslie  knew  that  the  occupants  must  be  near  their 
destination.  To  follow  them  further  with  the  carriage  would 
be  both  useless  and  dangerous.  Stopping  the  carriage  and 
telling  the  driver  to  wait  for  them  In  the  avenue  half  a  dozen 
blocks  above,  the  two  friends  alighted  and  followed  their  quarry 


72  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

on  foot.  They  were  close  behind  the  carriage,  now,  but  keep- 
ing the  sidewalk,  and  even  if  observed  they  might  hare  been 
supposed  to  be  a  couple  of  late  wayfarers  plodding  home, 
and  not  spies  as  they  at  that  moment  felt  themselves  to  be, 
in  however  meritorious  a  cause  !  About  half  way  between 
Fourth  Avenue  and  Madison,  the  carriage  stopped  before  a 
handsome  brown-stone  house.  "  Nothing  venture  nothing 
have  !"  is  an  old  motto  that  never  wears  out.  Before  the  rum- 
ble of  the  carriage  had  fairly  stopped  or  the  driver  could  have 
had  time  to  turn  around,  the  two  friends  were  over  the  area 
railings  and  under  the  steps.  Not  a  dignified  position,  per- 
haps, nor  a  pleasant  one  in  which  to  be  caught  in  the  event 
of  a  sudden  opening  of  the  area  door ;  but  other  men  have 
risked  as  much  for  a  much  idler  curiosity  ! 

Perfect  silence  under  the  steps,  except  two  loudly-beating 
hearts  and  a  little  quick  breathing.  Leslie  ventured  a  look 
around  the  corner  of  the  stoop — saw  the  driver  get  down 
and  open  the  door,  and  the  one  man  and  two  women  alight 
and  go  up  the  steps.  For  the  rest,  they  were  obliged  to  de- 
pend upon  the  ears.     One  of  the  women  spoke  : 

"  It  will  come  to-morrow  at  midnight  V 

Harding  could  feel  that  Leslie  shuddered,  and  could  dis- 
tinguish his  sharp  whisper  to  himself: 

"  The  red  woman's  voice  !  I  knew  I  could  not  be  mis- 
taken !" 

Then  the  voice  of  the  man  said  :  "  "Wait  a  moment !"  and 
Lesric  fancied  that  he  recognized  that  voice  quite  as  well  as 
the  other.  Then  there  was  a  quick  pull  of  the  bell,  the 
sound  tinkling  far  back  in  the  still  house.  Then  came  two 
sharp  pulls  after  the  pause  of  a  moment,  and  then  a  fourth 
after  another  pause.  Not  until  the  fourth  tinkle  had  been 
heard  was  there  any  other  sound  within  the  house.  Then  a 
door  was  heard  to  open  and  shut,  and  feet  were  heard  in  the 
hall.  The  man's  voice  said  "  All  right !"  and  the  carriage 
drove  away.  An  inner  door  opened,  but  the  outer  one  (as 
the  friends  could  easily  distinguish  by  the  sound  of  the 
voices)  remained  closed  until  some  one  within  asked  : 

"  How  many  ?" 

"  Seven  !"   answered   the  man's   voice.     Then  the   outer 


SH0ULDER-STRA1'  S.  73 

door  opened,  all  went  in,  the  doors  closed  and  were  locked, 
the  footsteps  in  the  hall  died  away,  and  the  friends  heard 
no  more. 

Very  gingerly,  as  if  some  depredation  on  personal  pro- 
perty had  lately  been  committed,  the  two  volunteer  mid- 
night guardians  of  the  public  weal  climbed  again  over  the 
area  railings,  after  all  had  been  still  for  a  moment.  Not  a 
word  passed  between  them.  Harding  stepped  softly  up  the 
stone  steps  to  the  door  and  noted  the  number  on  it,  then 
down  again,  as  if  he  was  treading  on  eggs.  Leslie  counted  the 
number  of  houses  from  the  corner,  with  steps  not  more 
sonorous,  and  looked  around  to  see  whether  they  could  pos- 
sibly not  have  been  watched  by  a  policeman,  when  getting 
into  and  out  of  the  area,  because  they  did  not  intend  to  steal. 
All  these  things  accomplished,  and  apparently  nothing  more 
to  be  done,  they  went  quietly  down  5 —  Street  to  Lexing- 
ton Avenue  and  sought  their  carriage. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The   Mystery  of  the  Red   Woman — Another   of    Tom 
Leslie's  long;  Stories — An  Incident  of  Paris  in  1800 

The   Vision   of   the  White   Mist — Two   Men  "with 

one  Wonder  and  one  Purpose. 

"And  who  was  the  red  woman  ?" 

It  has  been  indicated  in  a  former  chapter  that  both  Tom 
Leslie  and  Walter  Lane  Harding  intended,  at  one  period  of 
the  night,  to  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  possible.  The  event  was 
that  neither  found  that  luxury  until  the  milkman  was  bawl- 
big  under  the  windows.  Harding  had  contrived  to  raise  a 
large  amount  of  curiosity,  especially  about  the  "red  woman" 
and  her  possible  connection  with  the  events  of  the  evening, 
and  Leslie  tired  and  satisfied  him,  collectively  and  at  inter- 
vals, with  another  long  story  before  they  separated.     Only 


71  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

in  his  own  words  can  that  story  be  so  conveyed  as  to  be  in- 
telligible. 

"I  had  returned  from  Vienna  to  Paris,"  he  said,  "late  in 
1860.  No  matter  what  I  was  doing  in  Paris  ■  and  a>  we 
are  upon  a  serious  subject,  don't  let  me  hear  a  word  about 
'grisettes'  or  the  'back  room  of  a  baker's  shop.'  1  lodged  in 
the  little  Rue  Marie  Stuart,  not  far  from  the  line  Montor- 
geuil,  and  only  two  or  three  minutes'  walk  from  the  Louvre, 
for  the  long  picture  galleries  of  which  I  had  an  unfortunate 
weakness.  I  had  a  tradesman  with  a  pretty  wife  for  my 
landlord,  and  a  cozy  little  room  in  which  three  persons  could 
sit  down  comfortably,  for  my  domicil.  As  I  did  not  often 
have  more  than  two  visitors,  my  room  was  quite  sufficient ; 
and  as  I  spent  a  large  proportion  of  my  evenings  at  other 
places  than  my  lodgings,  the  space  was  three  quarters  of  the 
time  more  than  I  needed. 

"One  of  my  intimates,  a  young  Prussian  by  the  name  of 
Adolph  Yon  Berg,  had  a  habit  of  visiting  mediums,  clair- 
voyants, and,  not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  upon  it,  fortune- 
tellers. Though  I  had  been  in  company  with  clairvoyants  in 
many  instances,  I  had  never,  before  my  return  to  Paris  in 
the  late  summer  of  1860,  entered  any  one  of  those  places  in 
which  professional  fortune-tellers  carried  on  their  business. 
It  was  early  in  September,  I  think,  that  at  the  earnest  solici- 
tation of  Yon  Berg,  who  had  been  reading  and  smoking  with 
me  at  my  lodgings,  I  went  with  him,  late  in  the  evening,  to 
a  small  two-story  house  in  the  Rue  La  Reynie  Ogniard,  a 
little  street  down  the  Rue  Saint  Denis  toward  the  quays  of 
the  Seine,  and  running  from  Saint  Denis  across  to  the  Rue 
Saint  Martin.  The  house  seemed  to  me  to  be  one  of  the 
oldest  in  Paris,  although  built  of  wood  ;  and  the  wrinkled 
and  crazy  appearance  of  the  front  was  eminently  Buggestive  of 
the  face  of  an  old  woman  on  which  time  had  long  been  plowing 
furrows  to  plant  disease.  The  interior  of  the  house,  when  we 
entered  it  by  the  dingy  and  narrow  hall-way,  that  night,  well 
corresponded  with  the  exterior.  A  tallow  candle  in  a  tin 
sconce  was  burning  on  the  wall,  half  hiding  and  half  reveal- 
ing the  grime  on  the  plastering,  the  cobwebs  in  the  corners, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  75 

and  the  rickety  stairs  by  which  it  might  be  supposed  that 
the  occupants  ascended  to  the  second  story. 

"  My  companion  tinkled  a  small  bell  that  lay  upon  a  little 
uncovered  table  in  the  hall  (the  outer  door  having  been  en- 
tirely unfastened,  to  all  appearance),  and  a  slattern  girl  came 
out  from  an  inner  room.  On  recognizing  my  companion, 
who  had  visited  the  house  before,  she  led  the  way,  without  a 
word,  to  the  same  room  she  had  herself  just  quitted.  There 
was  nothing  remarkable  in  this.  A  shabby  table,  and  two  or 
three  still  more  shabby  chairs,  occupied  the  room,  and  a  dark 
wax-taper  stood  on  the  table,  while  at  the  side  opposite  the 
single  window  a  curtain  of  some  dark  stuff  shut  in  almost- 
one  entire  side  of  the  apartment.  We  took  seats  on  the 
rickety  chairs,  and  waited  in  silence,  Adolph  informing  me 
that  the  etiquette  (strange  name  for  such  a  place)  of  the 
house  did  "not  allow  of  conversation,  not  with  the  proprie- 
tors, carried  on  in  that  apartment  sacred  to  the  divine  mys- 
teries. 

"Perhaps  fifteen  minutes  had  elapsed,  and  I  had  grown 
fearfully  tired  of  waiting,  when  the  corner  of  the  curtain  was 
suddenly  thrown  back,  and  the  figure  of  a  woman  stood  in 
the  space  thus  created.  Every  thing  behind  her  seemed  to 
be  in  darkness ;  but  some  description  of  bright  light,  which 
did  not  show  through  the  curtain  at  all,  and  which  seemed 
almost  dazzling  enough  to  be  Calcium  or  Drummond,  shed 
its  rays  directly  upon  her  side-face,  throwing  every  feature, 
from  brow  to  chin,  into  bold  relief,  and  making  every  fold  of 
her  dark  dress  visible.  But  I  scarcely  saw  the  dress,  the 
face  being  so  remarkable  beyond  any  thing  I  had  ever  wit- 
nessed. I  had  looked  to  see  an  old,  wrinkled  hag — it  being 
the  general  understanding  that  all  witches  and  fortune- 
tellers must  be  long  past  the  noon  of  life  ;  but  instead,  I  saw 
a  woman  who  could  not  have  been  over  thirty-five  or  forty, 
with  a  figure  of  regal  magnificence,  and  a  face  that  would 
have  been,  but  for  one  circumstance,  beautiful  beyond  de- 
scription. Apelles  never  drew  and  Phidias  never  chiselled 
nose  or  brow  of  more  classic  perfection,  and  I  have  never 
seen  the  bow  of  Cupid  in  the  mouth  of  any  woman  more 


76  SHOULDER-STKAI'S. 

jravishingly  shown  than  in  that  feature  of  the  countenance  of 
the  sorceress. 

"  I  said  that  but  for  one  circumstance  that  face  would  have 
been  beautiful  beyond  description.  And  vet  no  human  eye 
ever  looked  upon  a  face  more  hideously  fearful  than  it  was  in 
reality.  Even  a  momentary  glance  could  not  be  cast  upon  it 
without  a  shudder,  and  a  longer  gaze  involved  a  species  of 
horrible  fascination  which  affected  one  like  a  night-mare. 
You  do  not  understand  yet  what  was  this  remarkable  and 
most  hideous  feature.  I  can  scarcely  find  words  to  describe 
it  to  you  so  that  you  can  catch  the  full  force  of  the  idea — I 
must  try,  however.  You  have  often  seen  Mephi,stophelcs  in 
his  flame-colored  dress,  and  caught  some  kind  of  impression 
that  the  face  was  of  the  same  hue,  though  the  fact  was  that 
it  was  of  the  natural  color  and  only  affected  by  the  lurid 
character  ©f  the  dress  and  by  the  Satanic  pencilling  of  the 
eyebrows  !  "Well,  this  face  was  really  what  that  seemed  for 
the  moment  to  be.  It  was  redder  than  blood — red  as  fire, 
and  yet  so  strangely  did  the  flame-color  play  through  it  that 
you  knew  no  paint  laid  upon  the  skin  could  have  produced 
the  effect.  It  almost  seemed  that  the  skin  and  the  whole 
mass  of  flesh  were  transparent,  and  that  the  red  color  came 
from  some  kind  of  fire  or  light  within,  as  the  red  bottle  in  a 
druggist's  window  might  glow  when  you  were  standing  full 
in  front  of  it  and  the  gas  was  turned  on  to  full  height  behind. 
Every  feature — brow,  nose,  lips,  chin,  even  the  eyes  them- 
selves, and  their  very  pupils,  seemed  to  be  pervaded  and  per- 
meated by  this  lurid  flame  ;  and  it  was  impossible  for  the 
beholder  to  avoid  asking  himself  whether  there  were  indeed 
spirits  of  flame — salamandrines — who  sometimes  existed  out 
of  their  own  element  and  lived  and  moved  as  mortals. 

"  Have  I  given  you  a  strange  and  fearful  picture  ?  Be 
sure  that  I  have  not  conveyed  to  you  one  thousandth  part  of 
the  impression  made  upon  myself,  and  that  until  the  day  I 
die  that  strange  apparition  will  remain  stamped  upon  the 
tablets  of  my  mind.  Diabolical  beauty  !  infernal  ugliness  ! 
— I  would  give  half  my  life,  be  it  longer  or  shorter,  to  be  able 
to  explain  whence  such  things  can  come,  to  confound  and 
stupefy  all  human  calculation  ! 


S  II  (J  L"  L  1)  B  ft-S  T  B  A  I'S.  77 

«  Well,  as  I  was  Baying,  there  stood  my  horribly  beautiful 
fiend,  and  there  I  Bat  spell-bound  before  her.  As  for  Adolph, 
though  he  had  told  me  nothing  in  advance  of  the  peculiarities 
of  her  appearance,  he  had  been  fully  aware  of  them,  of  course, 
and  I  had  the  horrible  surpriso  all  to  myself.  I  think  the 
sorceress  saw  the  mingled  feeling  in  my  face,  and  that  a 
smile  blended  of  pride  and  contempt  contorted  the  proud 
features  and  made  the  ghastly  face  yet  more  ghastly  for  one 
moment,  If  so,  the  expression  soon  passed  away,  and  she 
stood,  as  before,  the  incarnation  of  all  that  was  terrible  and 
mysterious.  At  length,  still  retaining  her  place  and  fixing 
her  eves  upon  Von  Berg,  she  spoke,  sharply,  brusquely,  and 
decided ly  : 

"  'You  are  here  again  !  what  do  you  want  V 

" '  I  come  to  introduce  my  friend,  the  Baron  Charles 
Denmore,  of  England,'  answered  Von  Berg,  'who  wishes — ' 

"'Nothing!'  said  the  sorceress,  the  word  coming  from  her 
lips  with  an  unmistakably  hissing  sound.  '  He  wants  nothing, 
and  he  is  not  the  Baron  Charles  Denmore  !  He  comes  from 
far  away,  across  the  sea,  and  he  would  not  have  come  here 
to-night  but  that  you  insisted  upon  it  1  Take  him  away — go 
away  yourself — and  never  let  me  see  you  again  unless  you 
hare  something  to  ask  or  you  wish  me  to  do  you  an  injury  P 

"  'But — '  began  Von  Berg. 

" '  Not  another  word  !'  said  the  sorceress,  '  I  have  said. 
(i'>,  before  you  repent  having  come  at  all !' 

"'.Madame,'  I  began  to  say,  awed  out  of  the  feeling  at 
least  of  equality  which  I  should  have  felt  to  be  proper  under 
such  circumstances,  and  only  aware  that  Adolph,  and  possi- 
bly myself,  had  incurred  the  enmity  of  a  being  so  near  to  the 
supernatural  as  to  be  at  least  dangerous — '  Madame,  I  hope 
that  you  will  not  think — ' 

11  But  here  she  cut  me  short,  as  she  had  done  Von  Berg 
the  instant  before. 

'"Hope  nothing,  young  man!'  she  said,  her  voice  per- 
ceptibly less  harsh  and  brusque  than  it  had  been  when 
speaking  to  my  companion.  'J lope  nothing  and  ask  nothing 
until  you  may  have  occasion;  then  come  to  me.' 

"'And  then?' 


78  SHO  l' LDEK-STR  APS. 

"  'Then  I  will  answer  every  question  you  may  think  proper 
to  put  to  me.     Stay  !   you  may  have  occasion  to  visit  me 
sooner  than  you  suppose,  or  I  may  have  oeeasion  to  force 
knowledge  upon  you  that  you  will  not  have  the  boldn< 
seek.     If  so,  I  shall  send  for  you.     Now  go,  both  of  you  !' 

"  The  dark  curtain  suddenly  fell,  and  the  singular  vision 
faded  with  the  reflected  light  which  had  filled  the  room. 
The  moment  after,  I  heard  the  shuffling  feet  of  the  slattern 
girl  coining  to  show  us  out  of  the  room,  but,  singularly 
enough,  as  you  will  think,  not  out  of  the  house!  Without  a 
word  we  followed  her — Adolph,  who  knew  the  customs  of 
the  place,  merely  slipping  a  twenty-franc  piece  into  her  hand ; 
and  in  a  moment  more  we  were  out  in  the  street  and  walk- 
ing up  the  Rue  Saint  Denis.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  detail 
the  conversation  which  followed  between  us  as  we  passed  up 
to  the  Rue  Marie  Stuart,  I  to  my  lodgings  and  Adolph  to 
his  own,  further  on,  close  to  the  Rue  Yivienne  and  not  far 
from  the  Boulevard  Montmartre.  Of  course  I  asked  him 
fifty  questions,  the  replies  to  which  left  me  quite  as  much  in 
the  dark  as  before.  He  knew,  he  said,  and  hundreds  of 
other  persons  in  Paris  knew,  the  singularity  of  the  personal 
appearance  of  the  sorceress,  and  her  apparent  power  of  divi- 
nation, but  neither  he  nor  they  had  any  knowledge  of  her 
origin.  He  had  been  introduced  at  her  house  several  months 
before,  and  had  asked  questions  affecting  his  family  in  Prus>ia 
and  the  chances  of  descent  of  certain  property,  the  replies  to 
which  had  astounded  him.  He  had  heard  of  her  using  marvel- 
lous and  fearful  incantations,  but  had  never  himself  win, 
any  thing  of  them.  In  two  or  three  instances,  before  the  pre- 
sent, he  had  taken  friends  to  the  house  and  introduced  them 
under  any  name  which  he  chose  to  apply  to  them  for  the 
time,  and  the  sorceress  had  never  before  chosen  to  call  him 
to  account  for  the  deception,  though,  according  to  the  assur- 
ances of  his  friends  after  leaving  the  house,  she  had  never 
failed  to  arrive  at  the  truth  of  their  nationalities  and  posi- 
tions in  life.  There  must  have  been  something  in  myself  or 
my  circumstances,  he  averred,  which  had  produced  so  singular 
an  effect  upon  the  witch,  (as  he  evidently  believed  her  to  be, ) 
and  he  had  the  impression  that  at  no  distant  day  I  should 


SHOULDER-S  T  B  A  P  S.  79 

again  hear  from  her.  That  was  all,  and  so  wo  parted,  I  ill 
any  other  condition  of  mind  than  that  promising  sleep,  and 

really  without  closing  my  eyes,  except  for  a  moment  or  two 
at  a  time,  during  the  night  which  followed.  AYhen  I  did 
attempt  to  force  myself  into  slumber,  a  red  spectre  stood 
continually  before  me,  an  unearthly  light  seemed  to  sear  my 
covered  eyeballs,  and  I  awoke  with  a  start.  Days  passed 
before  I  sufficiently  wore  away  the  impression  to  be  comfort- 
able, and  at  least  two  or  three  weeks  before  my  rest  became 
again  entirely  unbroken. 

"You  must  be  partially  aware  with  what  anxiety  we 
Americans  temporarily  sojourning  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic,  who  loved  the  country  we  had  left  behind  on  this, 
watched  the  succession  of  events  which  preceded  and  accom- 
panied the  Presidential  election  of  that  year.  Some  suppose 
that  a  man  loses  his  love  for  his  native  land,  or  finds  it  com- 
paratively chilled  within  his  bosom,  after  long  residence 
abroad.  The  very  opposite  is  the  case,  I  think  !  I  never 
knew  what  the  old  flag  was,  until  I  saw  it  waving  from  the 
top  of  an  American  consulate  abroad,  or  floating  from  the 
gaff  of  one  of  our  war-vessels,  when  I  came  down  the  moun- 
tains to  some  port  on  the  Mediterranean.  It  had  been 
merely  red,  white  and  blue  bunting,  at  home,  where  the 
symbols  of  our  national  greatness  were  to  be  seen  on  every 
hand  :  it  was  the  only  symbol  of  our  national  greatness  when 
we  were  looking  at  it  from  beyond  the  sea ;  and  the  man 
whose  eyes  will  not  fill  with  tears  and  whose  throat  will  not 
choke  a  little  with  overpowering  feeling,  when  catching 
sight  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes  where  they  only  can  be  seen 
to  remind  him  of  the  glory  of  the  country  of  which  he  is  a 
part,  is  unworthy  the  name  of  patriot  or  of  man  ! 

"But  to  return :  Where  was  I  ?  Oh  1  I  was  remarking  with 
what  interest  we  on  the  other  side  of  the  water  watched  the 
course  of  affairs  at  home,  during  that  year  when  the  rumble 
of  distant  thunder  was  just  heralding  the  storm.  You  are 
well  aware  that  without  extensive  and  long-continued  con- 
nivance on  the  part  of  sympathizers  among  the  leading  peo- 
ple of  Europe — England  and  France  especially — secession 
could  never  have  been  accomplished  so  far  as  it  has  been  ; 


80  S  II  0  l"  L  I)  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  s. 

and  there  never  could  have  been  any  hope  of  \\>  eventual 
success  if  there  had  been  no  hope  of  one  or  both  these  two 

countries  bearing  it  up  on  their  strong  and  unscrupulous 
arms.  The  leaven  of  foreign  aid  to  rebellion  was  working 
even  then,  both  in  London  and  Paris;  and  perhaps  we* 
had  opportunities  over  the  water  for  a  nearer  guess  at  the 
peril  of  the  nation,  than  you  could  have  had  in  the  midst  of 
your  party-political  squabbles  at  home. 

"During  the  months  of  September  and  October,  when 
your  Wide-Awakes  on  the  one  hand,  and  your  conservative 
Democracy  on  the  otl^er,  were  parading  the  streets  with 
banners  and  music,  as  they  or  their  predecessors  had  done  in 
so  many  previous  contests,  and  believing  that  nothing  worse 
could  be  involved  than  a  possible  party  defeat  and  some  bad 
feelings,  we,  who  lived  where  revolutions  were  common, 
thought  that  we  discovered  the  smouldering  spark  which 
would  be  blown  to  revolution  here.  The  disruption  of  the 
Charleston  Convention  and  through  it  of  the  Democracy;  the 
bold  language  and  firm  attitude  of  the  Republicans ;  the 
well-understood  energy  of  the  uncompromising  Abolitionists, 
and  the  less  defined  but  rabid  energy  of  the  Southern  fire- 
eaters  :  all  these  were  known  abroad  and  watched  With 
gathering  apprehension.  American  newspapers,  and  the 
extracts  made  from  them  by  the  leading  journals  of  France 
and  England,  commanded  more  attention  among  the  Americo- 
French  and  English  than  all  other  excitements  of  the  time 
put  together. 

"  Then  followed  what  you  all  know — the  election,  with  its 
radical  result  and  the  threats  which  immediately  succeeded, 
that  '  Old  Abe  Lincoln'  should  never  live  to  be  inaugurated  ! 
'He  shall  not!'  cried  the  South.  'He  shall!'  replied  the 
Korth.  To  us  who  knew  something  of  the  Spanish  knife 
and  the  Italian  stiletto,  the  probabilities  seemed  to  be  that 
he  would  never  live  to  reach  Washington.  Then  the  mutter- 
ings  of  the  thunder  grew  deeper  and  deeper,  and  some  dis- 
ruption seemed  inevitable,  evident  to  us  far  away,  while  you 
at  home,  it  seemed,  were  eating  and  drinking,  marrying  and 
giving  in  marriage,  holding  gala-days  and  enjoying  your- 
selves generally,  on  the  brink  of  an  arousing  volcano  from 


sn  0  U  L  I)  E  R-S  TRAPS.  81 

which  the  sulphurous  smoke  already  began  to  ascend  to  the 
heavens  !  So  time  passed  on  ;  autumn  became  winter,  and 
December  was  rolling  away. 

"  I  was  sitting  with  half-a-dozon  friends  in  the  chess-room 
at  Aery's,  about  eleven  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  twentieth 
of  December,  talking  over  some  of  the  marvellous  successes 
which  had  been  won  by  Paul  Morphy  when  in  Paris,  and 
the  unenviable  position  in  which  Howard  Staunton  had  placed 
himself  by  keeping  out  of  the  lists  through  evident  fear  of 
the  New-Orleanian,  when  Adolph  Yon  Berg  came  behind 
me  and  laid  his  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"  'Come  with  me  a  moment,'  he  said,  'you  are  wranted!' 

"  'Where?'  I  asked,  getting  up  from  my  seat  and  following 
him  to  the  door,  before  which  stood  a  light  coupe,  with  its 
red  lights  flashing,  the  horse  smoking,  and  tho  driver  in  his 
seat. 

"  'I  have  been  to-night  to  the  Rue  la  Reynie  Ogniard  !'  he 
answered. 

"'And  are  you  going  there  again?'  I  asked,  my  blood  chill- 
ing a  little  with  an  indefinable  sensation  of  terror,  but  a  sense 
of  satisfaction  predominating  at  the  opportunity  of  seeing 
something  more  of  the  mysterious  woman. 

"  'I  am  !'  he  answered,  'and  so  are  you!  She  has  sent  for 
you!     Come!' 

"  Without  another  word  I  stepped  into  the  coupe*,  and  we 
were  rapidly  whirled  away.  I  asked  Adolph  how  and  why 
I  had  been  summoned ;  but  he  knew  nothing  more  than  my- 
self, except  that  he  had  visited  the  sorceress  at  between  nine 
and  ten  that  evening,  that  she  had  only  spoken  to  him  for  an 
instant,  but  ordered  him  to  go  at  once  and  find  his  friend,  the 
American,  whom  he  had  falsely  introduced  some  months  be- 
fore as  the  English  baron.  He  had  been  irresistibly  im- 
pressed with  the  necessity  of  obedience,  though  it  would 
break  in  upon  his  own  arrangements  for  the  later  evening, 
(which  included  an  hour  at  the  Chateau  Rouge  ;)  had  picked 
up  a  coupe,  looked  in  for  me  at  two  or  three  places  where  he 
thought  me  most  likely  to  be  at  that  hour -in  the  evening,  and 
had  found  me  at  Very's,  as  related.  What  the  sorceress 
could  possibly  want  of  me,  he  had  no  more  idea  than  myself  j 


82  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

but  he  reminded  me  that  she  had  hinted  at  the  possible  neces- 
sity of  sending  for  me  at  no  distant  period,  and  I  remem- 
bered the  fact  too  well  to  need  the  reminder. 

"It  was  nearly  midnight  when  we  drove  down  the  Rue  St. 
Denis,  turned  into  La  Reynie  Ogniard,  and  drew  up  at  the 
antiquated  door  I  had  once  entered  nearly  three  months  earlier, 
We  entered  as  before,  rang  the  bell  as  before,  and  were  ad- 
mitted into  the  inner  room  by  the  same  slattern  girl.  I  re- 
member at  this  moment  one  impression  which  this  person 
made  upon  me — that  she  did  not  wash  so  often  as  four  times 
a  year,  and  that  the  same  old  dirt  was  npon  her  face  that  had 
been  crusted  there  at  the  time  of  my  previous  visit.  There 
seemed  no  change  in  the  room,  except  that  two  tapers,  and  each 
larger  than  the  one  I  had  previously  seen,  were  burning  upon 
the  table.  The  curtain  was  down  as  before,  and  when  it  sud- 
denly rose,  after  a  few  minutes  spent  in  waiting,  and  the  blood- 
red  woman  stood  in  the  vacant  space,  all  seemed  so  exactly  as  it 
had  done  on  the  previous  visit,  that  it  would  have  been  no 
difficult  matter  to  believe  the  past  three  months  a  mere  im- 
agination, and  this  the  same  first  visit  renewed. 

"  The  illusion,  sueh  as  it  was,  did  not  last  long,  however, 
The  sorceress  fixed  her  eyes  full  upon  me,  with  the  red  flame 
seeming  to  play  through  the  eyeballs  as  it  had  before  done 
through  her  cheeks,  and  said,  in  a  voice  lower,  more  sad  and 
broken,  than  it  had  been  when  addressing  me  on  the  previous 
occasion : 

" '  Young  American,  I  have  sent  for  you,  and  you  have 
done  well  to  come.     Do  not  fear — » 

"'I  do  not  fear — you,  or  any  one!'  I  answered,  a  little 
piqued  that  she  should  have  drawn  any  such  impression  from 
my  appearance.  I  may  have  been  uttering  a  fib  of  magnifi- 
cent proportions  at  the  moment,  but  one  has  a  right  to  deny 
cowardice  to  the  last  gasp,  whatever  else  he  must  admit. 

"'You  do  not?  It  is  well,  then  !'  she  said  in  reply,  and 
in  the  same  low,  sad  voice.  '  You  will  have  courage,  then, 
perhaps,  to  see  what  I  will  show  you  from  the  land  of 
shadows.' 

"  '  Whom  does  it  concern  ?'  I  asked.  '  Myself  or  some 
other  V 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  83 

"'Yourself,  ami  many  others— all  the  world  !'  uttered  the 
lips  of  (lame.  '  '  11  is  of  your  country  that  I  would  show  you.' 
'  ••  •  My  country  '.'  God  of  heaven  !  what  has  happened  to 
my  country  ?'  broke  from  my  lips  almost  before  I  knew  what 
1  was  uttering.  I  suppose  the  words  came  almost  like  a 
groan,  for  I  had  been  deeply  anxious  over  the  state  of  affairs 
known  to  exist  at  home,  and  perhaps  I  can  be  nearer  to  a 
\reeping  child  when  I  think  of  any  ill  to  my  own  beloved 
land,  than  I  could  be  for  any  other  evil  threatened  in  the 

world. 

'"But  a  moment  more,  and  you  shall  see  !>  said  the  sor- 
ceress. Then  she  added:  'You  have  a  friend  here  present. 
Shall  he  too  look  on  what  I  have  to  reveal,  or  will  you  be- 
hold it  alone  V 

"  '  Let  him  see  !»  I  answered.  '  My  native  land  may  fall 
into  ruin,  but  she  can  never  be  ashamed !' 

'"So  let  it  be,  then  !'  said  the  sorceress,  solemnly.^  'Be 
silent,  look,  and  learn  what  is  at  this  moment  transpiring  in 
your  own  land  !' 

"  Beneath  that  adjuration  I  was  silent,  and  the  same  dread 
stillness  fell  upon  my  companion.  Suddenly  the  sorceress, 
still  standing  in  the  same  place,  waved  her  right  hand  in  the 
air,  and  a  strain  of  low,  sad  music,  such  as  the  harps  of  an- 
gete  may  be  continually  making  over  the  descent  of  lost 
Spirits  to  the  pit  of  suffering,  broke  upon  my  ears.  Yon 
Berg  too  heard  it,  I  know,  for  I  saw  him  look  up  in  surprise, 
then  apply  his  fingers  to  his  ears  and  test  whether  his  sense 
of  hearing  had  suddenly  become  defective.  Whence  that 
strain  of  music  could  have  sprung  I  did  not  know,  nor  do  I 
know  any  better  at  this  moment.  I  only  know  that,  to  my 
senses  and  those  of  my  companion,  it  was  definite  as  if  the 
thunders  of  the  sky  had  been  ringing. 

"  Then  came  another  change,  quite  as  startling  as  the  mu- 
sic and  even  more  difficult  to  explain.  The  room  began  to 
till  with  a  whitish  mist,  transparent  in  its  obscurity,  that 
wrapped  the  form  of  the  sybil  and  finally  enveloped  her  until 
she  appeared  to  be  but  a  shade.  Anon,  another  and  larger 
room  seemed  to  grow  in  the  midst,  with  columned  galleries 
and  a  rostrum,  and  hundreds  of  forms  in  wild  commotion, 


84  SHOl'LTiE  B  -  B  T  K  A  P  S. 

moving  to  and  fro,  thougb  uttering  no  Bound.     At  one  mo- 

niriit,  it  Beemed  that  1  could  look  through  one  of  the  win- 
dows of  the  phantom  building,  and  I  saw  the  branches  of  a 
palmetto  tree  waving  in  the  winter  wind.  Then  amidst  and 
apparently  at  the  head  of  all,  a  white-haired  man  stood  upon 
the  rostrum,  and  as  he  turned  down  a  long  scroll  from  which 
lie  seemed  to  be  reading  to  the  assemblage,  I  read  the  words 
that  appeared  on  the  top  of  the  scroll :  '  An  ordinance  to  dis- 
solve the  union  heretofore  existing  between  the  State  of 
South  Carolina  and  the  several  States  of  the  Federal  Union, 
under  the  name  of  the  United  States  of  America,'  My 
breath  came  thick,  my  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  wonder  and 
dismay,  and  I  could  see  no  more. 

"  '  Horror  !'  I  cried.  '  Roll  away  the  vision,  for  it  is  false  ! 
It  cannot  be  that  the  man  lives  who  could  draw  an  ordinance 
to  dissolve  the  Union  of  the  United  States  of  America!' 

"'It  is  so!  That  has  this  day  been  done!'  spoke  the 
voice  of  the  sorceress  from  within  the  cloud  of  white  mist. 

"  '  If  this  is  indeed  true,'  I  said,  '  show  me  what  is  the  re- 
sult, for  the  heavens  must  bow  if  this  work  of  ruin  is  accom- 
plished !' 

'"Look  again,  then  !'  said  the  voice.  The  strain  of  mu- 
sic, which  had  partially  ceased  for  a  moment,  grew  louder 
and  sadder  again,  and  I  saw  the  white  mist  rolling  and 
changing,  as  if  a  wind  were  stirring  it.  Gradually  again  it 
assumed  shape  and  form ;  and  in  the  moonlight,  before  the 
Capitol  of  the  nation,  its  white  proportions  gleaming  in  the 
wintry  ray,  the  form  of  Washington  stood,  the  hands  clasped, 
the  head  bare,  and  the  eyes  cast  upward  in  the  mute  agony 
of  supplication. 

"'All  is  not  lost!'  I  shouted  more/ than  spoke,  'for  the 
Father  of  his  Country  still  watches  his  children,  and  while 
he  lives  in  the  heavens  and  prays  for  the  erring  and  wander- 
ing, the  nation  may  yet  be  reclaimed.' 

'"It  may  be  so,'  said  the  voice  through  the  mist,  'for 
look !' 

"  Again  the  strain  of  music  sounded,  but  now  louder  and 
clearer,  and  without  the  tone  of  hopeless  sadness.  Again 
the  white  mists  rolled  by  in  changing  forms,  and  when  once 


S  H  O  IT  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 


85 


more  they  assumed  shape  and  consistency,  I  saw  great  masses 
of  men,  apparently  in  the  streets  of  a  large  city,  throwing  out 
the  old  Sag  from  roof  and  steeplo,  lifting  it  to  heaven  in  atti- 
tudes of  devotion,  and  pressing  it  to  their  lips  with  those  wild 
kisses  whieh  a  mother  gives  to  her  darling  child  when  it  has 
been  just  rescued  from  a  deadly  peril. 

"  '  The  nation  lives  !'  I  shouted.  ■  The  old  flag  is  not  de- 
serted and  the  patriotic  heart  yet  beats  in  American  bosoms  I 
Show  mo  yet  more,  for  the  next  must  be  triumph  !' 

"  '  Triumph  indeed  !'  said  the  voice.  '  Behold  it,  and  re- 
joice at  it  while  there  is  time  !'  I  shuddered  at  the  closing 
words,  but  another  change  in  the  strain  of  music, roused. me. 
It  was  not  sadness  now,  nor  yet  the  rising  voice  of  hope,  for 
martial  music  rung  loudly  and  clearly,  and  through  it  I  heard 
the  roar  of  cannon  and  the  cries  of  combatants  in  battle.  As 
the  vision  cleared,  I  saw  the  armies  of  the  Union  in  fight 
with  a  host  almost  as  numerous  as  themselves,  but  savage, 
ragged  and  tumultuous,  and  bearing  a  mongrel  flag  that  I 
had  never  seen  before — one  that  seemed  robbed  from  the 
banner  of  the  nation's  glory.  For  a  moment  the  battle  wa- 
vered and  the  forces  of  the  Union  seemed  driven  backward ; 
then  they  rallied  with  a  shout,  and  the  flag  of  stars  and 
stripes  was  rebaptized  in  glory.  They  pressed  the  traitors 
backward  at  every  turn— they  trod  rebellion  under  their 
heels — they  were  everywhere,  and  everywhere  triumphant. 

"'Three  cheers  for  the  Star-Spangled  Banner!'  I  cried, 
forgetting  place  and  time  in  the  excitement  of  the  scene. 
'  Let  the  world  look  on  and  wonder  and  admire  1  I  knew 
the  land  that  the  Fathers  founded  and  Washington  guarded 
could  not  die!  Three  cheers — yes,  nine — for  the  Star- 
Spangled  Banner  and  the  bravo  old  land  over  which  it 
floats  !' 

"  'Pause  !'  said  the  voice,  coming  out  once  more  from  the 
cloud  of  white  mist,  and  chilling  my  very  marrow  with  the 
sad  solemnity  of  its  tone.  'Look  once  again!'  I  looked, 
and  the  mists  went  rolling  by  as  before,  while  the  music 
changed  to  wild  discord  •  and  when  the  sight  became  clear 
again,  I  saw  the  men  of  the  nation  struggling  over  bags  of 
gold  and  quarrelling  for  a  black  shadow  that  flitted  about  in 


86  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

their  midst,  while  criea  of  want  and  wails  of  despair  went  up 
and  sickened  the  heavens  !     I  closed  my  eyes  and  tried  to 

close  my  ears,  hut  I  could  not  shut  out  the  voice  of  the  sor- 
ceress, saying  once  more  from  her  shroud  of  white  mist  : 

" '  Look  yet  again,  and  fur  the  last  time  !  Behold  the 
worm  that  gnaws  away  the  bravery  of  a  nation  and  makes 
it  a  prey  for  the  spoiler!1  Heart-brokenly  sad  was  the  music 
now.  as  the  vision  changed  once  more,  and  I  sawT  a  great 
crowd  of  men,  each  in  the  uniform  of  an  officer  of  the  United 
States  army,  clustered  around  one  who  seemed  to  be  their 
chief.  But  while  I  looked,  I  saw  one  by  one  totter  and  fall, 
and  directly#I  perceived  that  the  epaulette  or  shoulder-strap 
on  the  shoulder  of  each  was  a  great  hideous  yellow  v:orm, 
that  gnawed  away  the  shoulder  and  jwlsied  the  arm  and  ate 
into  the  vitals.  Every  second,  one  fell  and  died,  making  fran- 
tic efforts  to  tear  away  the  reptile  from  its  grasp,  but  in  vain. 
Then  the  white  mists  rolled  away,  and  I  saw  the  strange 
woman  standing  where  she  had  been  when  the  first  vision  began. 
She  was  silent,  the  music  was  hushed,  Adolph  Yon  Berg  had 
fallen  back  asleep  in  his  chair,  and  drawing  out  my  watch.  I 
discovered  that  only  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  since  the  sor- 
ceress spoke  her  first  word. 

"'You  have  seen  all — go!1  was  her  first  and  last  inter- 
ruption to  the  silence.  The  instant  after,  the  curtain  fell.  I 
kicked  Yon  Berg  to  awake  him,  and  we  left  the  house.  The 
coupe  was  waiting  in  the  street  and  set  me  down  at  my 
lodgings,  after  which  it  conveyed  my  companion  to  his. 
Adolph  did  not  seem  to  have  a  very  clear  idea  of  what  had 
occurred,  and  my  impression  is  that  he  went  to  sleep  the 
moment  the  first  strain  of  music  commenced. 

"As  for  myself,  I  am  not  much  clearer  than  Adolph  as  to 
how  and  why  I  saw  and  heard  what  I  know  that  I  did  see 
and  hear.  I  can  only  say  that  on  that  night  of  the  twentieth 
of  December,  I860,  the  same  on  which,  as  it  afterward  ap- 
peared, the  ordinance  of  secession  was  adopted  at  Charles- 
ton, I,  in  the  little  old  two-story  house  in  the  Rue  la  Reynie 
Ogniard,  witnessed  what  I  have  related. 

"  I  left  Havre  in  the  old  Arago  only  a  fortnight  afterwards. 
Perhaps  the  incident  helped  to  drive  me  home.    At  all  events 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  87 

1  was  ashamed  to  remain  abroad  when  the  country  was  in 
danger.  Now  you  know  quite  as  ninch  of  the  affair  as  my- 
self— which  is  not  Baying  much  I" 

"Ugh  !"  said  Harding,  drawing  an  evident  sigh  of  relief 
at  the  conclusion  of  so  long  a  story,  which  had  yet  been  so 
absorbingly  interesting  to  him,  under  the  circumstances,  that 
he  could  not  go  to  sleep  in  the  midst  of  it — "  Ugh  !  your 
idea— I  beg  your  pardon  I— your  relation  of  the  great  yellow 
worms  and  their  affinity  to  shoulder-straps,  is  almost  enough 
to  make  a  man,  however  patriotic,  shudder  at  the  thought  of 
assuming  such  a  decoration." 

"I  believe  you,  my  boy  I"  said  Leslie,  quoting  an  expres- 
sive vulgarism  which  Orpheus  C.  Kerr  had  just  been  making 
so  extensively  popular. 

"And  that  female  combination  of  ghastly  red  and  magical 
knowledge — " 

"  That  remarkable  combination,"  said  Leslie,  anticipating 
and  interrupting  the  half-sneer  that  was  coming — "  is  the  red 
woman  whom  I  saw  to-night  in  the  house  on  Prince  Street, 
just  before  I  fell  out  of  the  tree  ;  and  it  was  her  voice  that 
I  heard  on  the  piazza  yonder  just  before  the  door  opened. 
What  do  you  think  of  it  ?" 

"  Think  ?"  said  Harding,  earnestly  this  time.  "  I  am  alto- 
gether too  much  wrapped  in  that  remarkable  white  mist  that 
you  have  been  shaking  round  me,  to  think  !  Then  the  events 
of  to-night— so  much  crowded  in  a  little  space,  and  that 
woman  coming  into  the  midst  of  it  all  !  My  life  has  been  a 
rather  plain  one,  so  far,  and  I  have  had  to  do  with  very  few 
mysteries  ;  but  here  I  am  tumbling  into  the  midst  of  one 
thicker  than  the  fog  on  the  East  River  in  a  February  thaw  !" 
"  And  yet  the  mystery  of  the  two  houses,  and  of  the  red 
woman  so  far  as  possible,  I  am  going  to  go  through  like  the 
proverbial  streak  of  lightning  through  a  gooseberry-bush, 
before  I  have  done  with  it!"  said  Leslie,  his  habitual  good 
opinion  of  his  own  powers  coming  once  more  into  play. 
"  You  arc  ready  to  go  with  me  ?" 

"All  the  way!"  said  Barding,  graphically;  and  it  was 
then  that  after  a  few  words  of  arrangement  the  two  friends 
parted,  to  catch  what  might  still  remain  of  uneasy  morning 


88  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

slumber,  in  which  red  women,  flying  carriage-lamps  and  re- 
spectable young  men  skulking  in  doorways  and  areas,  were 
very  likely  to  be  prominent. 


CHArTER  VI. 

Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  and  Bell  Crawford — Some 
Speculations  on  tite  Spy  System — Josephine  Harris  on 
a  Reconnoissance,  and  what  she  saw  and  heard. 

At  any  other  time  than  the  present,  before  proceeding  with 
the  relation  of  the  events  that  transpired  in  the  honse  on 
West  3 —  Street  after  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford 
and  Miss  Bell  Crawford, — it  might  be  both  proper  and  politic 
to  indulge  in  a  disquisition  on  the  meanness  of  peeping  and 
the  general  iniquity  of  the  spy  system.  At  any  other  time — 
not  now,  when  the  country  is  deep  in  the  horrors  of  a  war 
that  principally  seems  to  have  been  a  failure  on  our  side  be- 
cause we  have  not  "peeped"  and  "spied"  enough.*  The 
rebels  have  had  the  advantage  of  us  from  the  beginning, — ■ 
not  only  because  they  were  fighting  comparatively  on  their 
own  ground  and  among  a  friendly  population,  but  because 
they  at  once  applied  the  spy  system  when  they  began,  and 
nosed  out  all  our  secrets  of  army  and  cabinet,  while  we 
have  neglected  spying  and  scouting,  and  made  every  im- 
portant military  movement  a  plunge  in  the  dark. 

Every  military  commander  has  blamed  every  other  mili- 
tary commander  for  inefficiency  in  this  respect,  and  when 
brought  to  the  test  he  has  showed  that  he  himself  had  a  terrk 
incognita  to  go  over  in  making  his  first  advance.  Quite  a 
number  of  well-known  people  who  were  present  may  remem- 
ber a  few  words  of  conversation  which  took  place  on  the 
Union  Course  at  one  of  the  contests  there  between  Princess 

*  December  15th,  1     ~ 


SIIOULDE  R-STK  ATS.  89 

and  Flora  Temple  (was  it  not  ?)  in  Jnne,  1801.  Schenck  had 
just  plunged  a  few  regiments,  huddled  up  in  railroad  cars, 
into  the  mouths  of  the  rebel  batteries  at  Vienna,  as  if  he  had 
been  taking  a  contract  to  feed  some  great  military  monster 
with  victims  as  quickly  and  in  as  compact  a  form  as  possible. 
The  country  was  horrified  over  the  slaughter,  Ball's  Bluff  and 
Fredericksburgh  not  having  yet  offered  up  their  holocausts  to 
dwarf  it  by  comparison.  An  officer  of  prominence  under 
McDowell,  then  in  command  of  the  Potomac  Army  under 
Scott,  had  come  home  on  a  furlough  and  was  present.  Many 
inquiries  were  made  of  him  by  acquaintances,  as  to  the  pro- 
gress and  prospects  of  the  war.  Among  other  things,  the 
Vienna  blunder  was  called  to  his  attention. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  officer — "  that  was  one  of  the  most  stupid 
of  blunders — all  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  ground  had  not 
been  properly  reconnoitered  beforehand  1  They  seem  to  have 
had  neither  scouts  nor  spies,  and  what  else  than  failure  could 
be  the  result  ?" 

"  True,"  said  one  of  the  by-standers.  "And  the  Potomac 
army — that  is  going  to  advance  pretty  soon,  as  I  hear — is 
that  all  right  in  the  respect  you  have  named  ?" 

"What?  McDowell's  army?"  said  the  officer,  contemptu- 
ously. "  When  you  catch  Irwin  McDowell  not  knowing 
exactly  what  is  ahead  of  him  and  around  him,  you  will  catch 
a  weasel  asleep  !" 

So  all  the  by-standers  believed,  and  were  confident  ac- 
cordingly. Four  weeks  afterwards  Irwin  McDowell  fought 
the  battle  of  Manassas,  the  result  of  which  showed  the  most, 
utter  ignorance  of  the  opposing  fortifications  and  forces  in 
front,  that  had  ever  been  recorded  in  any  history  I* 

So  much  for  the  confidence  that  one  entertains,  of  being- 
able  to  avoid  the  blunders  of  the  other !  Not  one  of  the 
predecessors  of  Scherazaide,  it  is  probable,  went  to  the  mar- 
riage bed  of  the  Sultan  without  believing  that  she  could  fix 
the  wavering  love  of  the  tyrant  and  avoid  the  fate  threat- 
ened for  the  morrow  !  And  yet  some  hundreds  of  fair  white 
bosoms  furnished   a  morning  banquet  to  the   fishes,  before 

*  December,  1S62. 


90  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Scherazaidc  the  Wise  succeeded  in  entangling  the  Sultan  in 
the  meshes  of  her  golden  speech  ! 

It  may  be  a  little  difficult  to  guess  what  this  has  to  do  with 
the  narration.  Simply  this — that  one  of  the  most  amiable 
and  fascinating  of  women  played  what  might  have  bee* 
called  "a  mean  trick"  on  the  occasion,  and  there  ha-  Beemed 
to  exist  some  occasion  for  making  her  excuse  before  relating 
the  iniquity.  Having  settled  that  during  the  War  for  the 
Union  there  has  not  been  half  enough  of  "spying,"  on  the 
side  of  right, — and  having  before  us  not  only  the  examples 
of  John  Champe  and  Nathan  Hale,  beloved  of  Washington, 
but  of  the  two  estimable  young  men  not  long  emerged  from 
under  the  area  steps  in  5—  Street,  let  us  dismiss  the  con- 
tempt with  which  we  have  been  wont  to  regard  Paul  Pry  and 
Betty  the  housemaid,  listening  at  key-holes,  in  our  favorite 
dramas,  and  look  mercifully  upon  the  peccadilloes  of  Miss 
Josephine  Harris. 

Colonel  Egbert  Crawford,  who  entered  the  room  of  the  in- 
valid on  that  occasion,  was  a  tall  and  rather  fine-looking  man, 
with  the  least  dash  of  iron-gray  in  his  hair  and  a  decidedly 
soldierly  bearing.  He  had  dark  eyes,  a  little  too  small  and 
not  always  direct  in  their  glance,  but  only  close  observers 
would  have  been  able  to  make  the  latter  discovery.  Had  he 
been  wise,  he  would  have  worn  something  more  than  the  full 
moustache  and  military  side-whiskers,  for  the  under  lip  and 
chin  being  close  shaven  the  play  of  the  muscles  of  the  lip, 
and  its  shape,  were  visible.  The  lip  was  heavy  and  sullen,  if 
not  cruel ;  and  any  one  who  watched  him  closely  enough 
(close  as  Josephine  Harris  had  sometimes  been  watching  him, 
say  !)  could  see  that  the  under  lip  had  an  almost  constant 
twitching  motion,  and  that  the  hands,  when  unoccupied, 
were  always  opening  and  shutting  themselves  much  too  often 
for  a  mind  at  ease.  He  was  dressed  in  the  full  regulation 
blue  uniform,  with  fatigue-cap,  in  spite  of  the  heat  of  the 
weather,  and  with  the  eagle  on  shoulder  and  the  red  belts 
and  gilt  hook  at  waist  suggesting  the  sword  that  was  to  come 
some  time  or  other. 

Miss  Bell  or  Isabella  Crawford,  sister  of  Richard,  who 
made  her  appearance  with  the  Colonel  after  her  more  or  less 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  91 

successful  search  for  the  peculiar  shade  of  cerise  ribbon, — 
demands  a  word  of  description,  and  only  a  word.  She  was  of 
medium  height,  well  formed  and  rather  plump,  with  a  plea- 
santly-moulded face  and  dark  hair  and  eyes,  undeniably  hand- 
some and  ladylike,  but  with  something  weak  and  languid 
about  the  mouth,  and  indefinably  creating  the  impression  of 
a  woman  incapable  of  being  quite  content  with  affairs  as  they 
came,  unless  they  came  very  pleasantly  and  fashionably,  or 
of  making  any  well-directed  effort  to  improve  them.  She 
was  faultlessly  dressed  and  irreproachably  gloved,  and  a  close 
observer  would  have  judged,  after  a  minute  inspection,  that 
she  would  be  better  at  home  in  the  pleasant  idleness  of  a  ball 
or  an  opera-matinee  than  where  she  might  be  required  either 
to  do  or  to  bear. 

"  A  nice  couple  and  belong  together  !  Neither  one  of  them 
good  for  anything  1"  had  more  than  once  been  Joe  Harris' 
irreverent  comment,  when  looking  at  them  as  they  entered 
or  left  carriage  or  ball  room,  a  little  earlier  in  her  acquaint- 
ance and  when  she  had  not  yet  enjoyed  so  many  opportuni- 
ties for  studying  the  peculiar  character  of  Col.  Egbert 
Crawford.  Just  now  she  would  have  had  her  doubts  about 
sacrificing  even  the  useless  Bell  to  a  man  whom  she  her.self 
began  to  dislike  so  much. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  brother  ?"  asked  the  sister  as  she  came 
in, — evidently  more  as  a  matter  of  duty  than  because  she  felt 
any  peculiar  interest  in  the  answer. 

u  You  look  pale — your  face  is  drawn — you  seem  to  be  in 
pain  !"  was  the  observation  of  the  Colonel,  before  the  invalid 
could  answer,  and  taking  the  hand  of  the  latter  without  seem- 
ing to  notice  the  shudder  with  which  his  touch  was  met. 

"  Perhaps  so — cousin — Egbert — yes — I  do  not  feel  quite  so 
well  as  I  have  done,"  muttered  the  invalid,  who  seemed  all 
the  while  to  be  making  a  violent  effort  to  command  face  and 
fueling.  "  There  was  music  in  the  street,  you  know — I  heard 
it  and  I  suppose  that  it  agitated  me." 

"  Sorry  !  tut !  tut  1  tut  1    You  ought  to  be  getting  better 

by  this  time,  I  should  think  1"  said  the  Colonel,  laying  his 

finger  on  the  pulse  of  Richard  and  looking  up  at  vacancy  as 

a  Doctor  has  the  habit  of  doing  when  he  performs  that  very 

6 


92  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

imposing  (imposing  upon  whom  f)  operation.  What  was 
there  in  his  glance,  that  met  the  eye  of  Joe  Harris,  as  he  did 
bo— and  gave  her  so  plain  a  continuation  of  her  worst  sus- 
picions ?  What  power  is  it  that  lets  in  the  daylight  on  our 
darkest  wishes  and  worst  motives,  just  at  the  moment  when 
we  natter  ourselves  that  we  have  them  more  carefully  hidden 
away  in  darkness  than  ever  before?  Joe  was  still  at  t lie 
window,  where  she  had  been  joined  by  Bell,  the  latter  already 
half-forgetful  of  her  sick  brother  and  eager  to  show  some 
astounding  purchase  she  had  just  made  at  one  of  the  dry- 
goods  palaces. 

"  There — go  away,  girls  ;  you  bother  poor  Richard  with 
your  chatter  |M  said  Colonel  Egbert,  affecting  great  cordiality 
and  a  little  familiarity.  (The  fact  was,  as  may  have  been 
noticed,  that  Bell  had  spoken  only  five  words  aloud  and  Joe 
not  a  word,  since  the  two  had  entered.)  "  Richard  is  not  so 
well,  I  am  afraid.  I  will  sit  by  him  awhile  and  you  may  go 
away  and  gabble  to  your  heart's  content." 

"Just  as  you  like,"  answered  Isabella,  doubling  up  a  half- 
unrolled  little  package  and  preparing  to  go.  "  I  have  some 
little  things  to  look  after  up-stairs.  Will  you  go  with  me, 
Joe  ?    Of  course  you  are  not  going  away  until  after  dinner  l'.:) 

"  Humph  !  I  do  not  know  that  I  am  going  away  at  all !" 
said  the  wild  girl,  her  words  very  different  from  her  thought 
at  the  moment.  "  You  are  such  nice  people,  and  Dick  is 
such  an  interesting  invalid,  and  who  knows — well,  I  will  not 
speculate  any  more  about  that,  in  public,  just  yet !  Yes, 
Bell,  go  up-stairs  and  attend  to  your  finery ;  I  am  going 
down  into  the  basement  to  ask  Xorah  for  two  slices  of  bread- 
and-butter  and  the  wing  of  a  cold  chicken  !" 

And  away  through  the  noiseless  glass  door  buzzed  Jose- 
phine, on  her  way  to  the  basement,  followed  by  Isabella  on 
her  way  to  the  inner  penetralia  of  the  second  floor ;  while 
Col.  Egbert  Crawford  shied  his  fatigue-cap  at  the  desk  and 
drew  up  his  chair  to  the  side  of  the  sofa  occupied  by  the 
invalid.  Isabella  really  went  up-stairs,  and  for  the  purpose 
designated.  Shame  for  Joe  Harris,  it  must  be  said  that 
while  she  really  descended  to  the  basement  aid  made  an 
inroad  on  Norah's  larder  to  the  extent  of  the  wing  of  cold 


S1I0ULDEK-STRAPS.  93 

chicken  and  one  slice  of  bread-and-butter,  vet  she  thrust  both 
the  edibles  into  a  piece  of  paper  and  into  her  pocket,  at  the 
imminent  risk  of  greasing  the  latter  convenient  receptacle, 
and  was  back  again  on  the  parlor  floor  within  the  space  of 
one  and  a  half  minutes  by  the  little  Geneva  watch  which  she 
carried  so  bewitehingly  at  her  belt.  If  mischief  and  sad 
earnest  can  both  be  blended  in  the  expression  of  one  face 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  they  were  so  blended  in  hers  at 
that  moment.  What  was  in  the  wind  and  who  was  to 
suiter  ? — for  suffer  somebody  always  did  when  Josey  fairly 
started  out  on  a  campaign  ! 

From  the  door  leading  to  the  basement,  to  that  opening 
into  the  parlor  from  the  Jiall,  she  probably  stepped  lighter 
than  she  had  ever  before  done  since  playing  blind-man's  buff 
in  early  girlhood ;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  that  parlor  door 
had  ever  before  opened  and  shut  with  so  little  noise,  since 
the  skilful  hanger  first  oiled  the  plated  hinges.  From  the 
door  to  the  back  part  of  the  room  she  went  on  tip-toe — the 
fact  cannot  be  denied, — little  noise  as  her  light  shoes  would 
have  made  on  the  heavy  velvet.  We  all  have  something  of 
the  cat  about  us — man  and  the  other  animals ;  though  the 
quality  developes  itself  under  different  circumstances.  Pussy 
treads  even  softer  than  usual,  when  after  the  coveted  cream ; 
that  larger  pussy,  the  tiger,  steals  lightly  towards  the  am- 
bashed  hunter  who  is  to  furnish  him  the  next  delicious  meal; 
and  "  Tarquin's  ravishing  strides"  are  undoubtedly  a  mis- 
nomer, for  the  Roman  must  have  been  something  more  or 
less  than  man  if  he  did  not  tip-toe  his  sandals  or  cast  them 
off  altogether,  when  he  stole  towards  the  midnight  bed  of 
Lucrece. 

The  cream  for  which  Pussy  Harris — shame  upon  her  for 
that  same  ! — was  just  then  making  an  adventurous  foray, — 
was  a  hearing  of  the  conversation  ivhich  might  take  place 
between  Richard  Crawford  and  his  cousin!  That  conversa- 
tion she  had  determined  to  hear,  at  all  hazards  ;  for  what, 
she  scarcely  knew  herself,  but  with  an  undefinable  impression 
that  she  must  hear  it — that  (Jesuitieally,  and  of  course  most 
horrible  doctrine  !)  the  end  might  justify  the  otherwise  inde- 
fensible means — and  that — that — in  short,  that  she  was  going 


94  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

to  do  it,  and  this  settled  the  matter  as  well  as  finished  up  the 
reason  I 

The  piano  stood  on  the  left,  passing  down  from  the  parlor 
door  towards  the  rear  of  the  room,  and  behind  it  was  a  small 
inlaid  table   covered   with   books,  and   a  large   easy  ehair 
designed  for  lazy  reading.     Any  person  in  the  ehair  would 
be  within  twelve  inches  of  the  glass  doors  and  not  over  ten 
feet  from  the  two  men  at  the  sofa,  in  the  little  back  room. 
Josephine  distinctly  heard,  through  the  thin  glass,  the  hum 
of  their  voices  as  she  approached  the  table,  but  not  many  of 
the  words  were  audible.     Confound  it ! — she  thought — her 
plan  of  sitting  in  the  chair,  pretending  to  read  as  a  safeguard 
against  possible  detection,  and   overhearing  by  laying  her 
head  back  against  the  door — this  would  never  do.     Time 
was  pressing — finesse  must  give  way  to  boldness;   and  in 
tho  sixteenth  of  a  minute  thereafter  the  sliding  doors  were 
softly  parted  by  less  than  half  an  inch  of  space — too  little  to 
be  readily  noticed  from  the  back  room,  which  was  the  lighter 
of  the  two,  and  yet  enough  to  see  through  if  necessary,  (but 
she  did  not  intend  to  look,)  and  to  hear  through,  which  was 
the  matter  of  first  consequence.     And  there  she  stood — an 
eaves-dropper  of  the  first  order — a  flush  of  shame  and  of 
half-conscious  guilt  on  cheek  and  brow,  and  a  wild,  startled 
look  in  her  eyes,  such  as  a  hare  might  show  when  listening 
for  the  second  bay  of  the  hound — liable  to  be  caught  by  6ome 
one  entering  the  parlor  from  the  hall,  or  by  the   Colonel 
taking  a  fancy  to  enter  the  room  for  any  purpose — and  yet 
chained  there,  with  her  ear  within  an  inch  of  the  opening,  as 
if  present  happiness  and  eternal  salvation  had  both  depended 
upon  her  keeping  that  position  ! 

Could  anything  be  more  shameful  ?— anything  more 
despicable?  Was  ever  a  heroine  so  placed,  even  by  English 
romancers  or  French  dramatists  ?  And  was  not  the  long 
dissertation  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  to  prove  the 
applicability  of  the  spy  system  to  war  time,  an  absolute 
necessity  ? 

What  might  have  passed  precedently,  while  she  was  look- 
ing after  the  chicken  and  the  bread-and-butter,  Josephine 
had  no  means  of  divining.     At  the  time  of  her  assuming  her 


SUOULDEK   STRAPS.  95 

post  of  observation,  Richard  Crawford  was  still  lying  back 
upon  the  sofa,  niul  looking  up,  as  ho  had  been  half  an  hour 
before  when  she  was  herself  conversing  with  him.  If  the 
spasms  had  not  ceased  altogether,  they  were  at  least  con- 
curred by  the  will  and  concealed  from  the  eyes  of  the  Colo- 
nel, as  they  had  not  been  from  hers.  The  young  girl  thought 
she  could  detect,  too,  upon  the  face  of  the  invalid,  a  less 
hopeless  look,  and  some  evidence  of  more  determined  insight 
in  the  glance,  than  she  had  marked  for  a  considerable  periud. 
Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  was  sitting  with  his  chair  drawn 
up  reasonably  close  in  front  of  his  cousin,  and  conversing 
eagerly  with  him,  yet  with  his  face  partially  turned  away  most 
of  the  time,  and  not  meeting  his  gaze  directly  as  most  honest 
and  earnest  men  do  the  observation  of  those  with  whom  they 
converse  on  important  subjects.  Perhaps  that  disposition 
of  the  Colonel's  face  gave  both  his  seen  and  his  unseen 
listeners  better  opportunities  for  close  study  of  his  expression 
than  they  might  otherwise  have  enjoyed. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  things  are  not  as  we  both  wish 
them  to  be,  at  West  Falls,"  the  young  girl  heard  the  Colonel 
say.  "  Of  course  I  am  not  less  anxious  than  yourself  to  have 
everything  arranged  and  the  property — "  \ 

"  Ah,  thero  is  some  property  involved,  then  !  and  at  West 
Falls,  of  all  the  places  in  the  world  !»  commented  the  unin- 
vited listener,  speaking  to  herself,  and  with  her  words  very 
carefully  kept  between  her  teeth,  as  was  becoming  under 
such  circumstances — always  provided  there  could  be  any- 
thing "  becoming"  about  the  affair. 

"  Uncle  John,"  the  Colonel  went  on  to  say,  "  seems  to 
have  imbibed  some  kind  of  singular  prejudice  against  your 
mode  of  life  in  the  city,  if  not  against  you,  and  Mary — " 

"  Humph  1  there  is  a  '  Mary' — a  woman  in  the  case,  as 
well  as  the  property,"  commented  the  listener.  "  Little 
while  as  I  have  been  here,  the  thing  already  begins  to  grow 
interesting  !" 

°  Well,  Mary  ?  what  of  her?  Why  does  she  answer  my 
letters  no  more  ?"  asked  the  invalid,  calming  his  voice  by  an 
evidently  strong  effort  and  speaking  as  the  Colonel  paused 


96  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

for  an  instant.  "  Does  she  too  begin  to  share  so  bitterly  in 
the — in  the — " 

"  In  the  prejudice  ?  I  am  sorry  to  say — yes,*'  the  Colonel 
went  on,  "  though  I  do  not  think  that  either  of  them  could 
give  a  reason.  I  tried  to  probe  the  matter  a  little  when 
there,  but  the  old  gentleman  answered  me  so  shortly  that  I 
had  no  excuse  to  go  on ;  and  Mary — " 

"You  did  not  say  anything  to  her?"  broke  in  the  invalid, 
with  the  same  evident  suppression  in  his  voice. 

"  Of  course  not !"  was  the  answer.  "  You  know  me, 
Richard,  I  hope,  and  know  that  I  would  not  have  lost  a 
chance  of  saying  anything  in  your  favor — " 

"Trust  you  for  that!11  was  the  mental  comment  of  the 
listener.  "  Wouldn't  you  glorify  him  !  Wouldn't  you  make 
him  blue  and  gold,  with  gilt  edges  !     I  see  you  doing  it !" 

" — If  I  had  any  opportunity,"  concluded  the  Colonel. 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  the  invalid,  his  words  so  forced 
from  between  his  teeth  that  his  interlocutor,  had  he  been 
less  absorbed  in  his  own  calculations,  must  have  noticed  the 
difference  from  his  usual  manner. 

"  Richard  Crawford,  you  are  beginning  to  wake,  for  you 
know  that  man  is  lying — I  see  it  by  your  eyes  !"  was  the 
comment  of  the  young  girl,  this  time. 

"  I  am  going  to  West  Falls  again  in  a  few  days — that  is, 
if  we  do  not  get  orders  for  Washington,"  continued  the  Colo- 
nel ;  "  and  if  I  have  your  permission — as  you  are  not  likely 
to  be  well  enough  to  go  out  even  by  that  time — I  shall  speak 
to  both  on  the  subject,  as  it  would  be  the  world's  pity  if  you 
should  be  thrown  out  of  so  fine  a  property  and  the  possession 
of  a  girl  who  I  believe  once  loved  you,  by  false  reports,  or — " 

"  False  reports  ?  eh  ?  who  should  have  circulated  false 
reports?"  asked  the  invalid,  his  face  firing  for  a  moment  and 
his  voice  temporarily  under  less  command.  But  the  mo- 
mentary flush  passed  away,  and  it  was  only  with  the  queru- 
lous voice  and  petulant  manner  of  sickness  that  he  con- 
cluded :  "Eh,  well,  no  matter;  we  will  see  about  all  that 
by-and-by,  when  I  get  well." 

"  That  is  right — I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  so  hopefully," 
said  the  Colonel.     "All  will  be  right,  no  doubt,  when  you 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  97 

get  well."  Did  he  or  did  he  not  lay  a  peculiar  stress  on 
Ike  two  words,  as  the  old  jokers  used  to  do  on  a  few  others 
when  they  informed  the  boya  that  the  statue  of  St.  Paul,  in 
the  niche  in  the  front  of  St.  Paul's  church,  always  came 
down  and  took  a  drink  of  water  from  the  nearest  pump,  when 
it  heard  (he  clock  strike  twelve  ?  If  there  was  such  an  em- 
phasis, did  Richard  Crawford  hear  and  recognize  it  ?  That 
some  one  else  in  tho  immediate  vicinity  did,  and  duly  com- 
mented upon  it,  is  beyond  a  question. 

"  You  must  modulate  your  voice  better  than  that,  Colonel 
Egbert  Crawford,  before  you  go  on  the  stage  1"  said  the  wild 
girl.  "  You  think  he  is  dying — you  mean  he  shall  die — I 
have  an  impression  that  I  did  not  come  here  for  nothing, 
alter  all !" 

"  And  now,"  said  the  Colonel,  rising,  and  taking  out  his 
watch,  "  I  must  leave  you.     We  have  a  recruiting  meeting 

at Hall  at  six,  and  I  must  be  there  without  fail.     Oh," 

as  if  suddenly  recollecting  something  comparatively  unim- 
portant, that  had  been  overlooked  in  the  pressure  of  more  in- 
teresting matter — "  I  had  nearly  forgotten.  Your  bandage — 
is  it  all  right  ?  I  hope  the  Doctor  and  Bell  have  not  found 
out  the  secret,  so  as  to  laugh  at  what  they  would  call  our 
superstition.  Shall  I  renew  it  ?  I  believe  I  have  some  of 
the  preparation  in  one  or  another  of  my  pockets,"  feeling  in 
one  and  then  another,  as  if  doubtful.  "  Ah,  here  it  is,"  and 
he  took  out  from  one  of  his  pockets  which  he  had  hurriedly 
gone  over  with  his  hands  at  least  half  a  dozen  of  times,  a 
small  blaGk  box,  four  or  five  inches  in  length  and  perhaps  two 
in  width  by  an  inch  deep. 

Were  Josephine  Harris'  eyes  playing  fantastic  tricks  with 
her  on  that  occasion  ;  or 'did  she  see,  as  that  little  black  box 
met  the  view,  a  momentary  repetition  of  the  suffering  spasm 
which  had  crossed  the  face  of  Richard  Crawford  half  an  hour 
before,  when  she  first  suggested  a  conflict  of  interests  between 
them  ?  At  all  events  the  spasm,  if  such  it  was,  passed  away, 
and  he  merely  answered,  languidly  : 

"Yes,  thank  you,  Egbert — yes,  if  you  please." 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings,  had  Josephine  Harris 
been  a  "real  lady,"  or  had  she  possessed  any  well-defined 


98  S  H  O  U  L  D  E  B  -  B  T  K  A  P  S. 

sense  of  "  propriety,"  she  would  have  left  her  post  of  ob- 
servation on  the  instant.  For  though  the  Colonel  was  par- 
tially between  her  and  the  patient,  she  6aw  him  open  tho 
little  black  box,  take  out  a  broad  knife  from  his  vest  pocket, 
and  then  proceed  to  other  operations  very  improper  for  a 
young  lady  to  witness.  She  saw  Richard  Crawford  unbutton 
his  vest,  a  little  assisted  by  the  Colonel.  What  followed  sho 
could  not  see,  very  fortunately.  All  that  she  could  make  out, 
was  that  some  sort  of  narrow  white  bandage  seemed  to  have 
been  removed  from  the  breast  or  stomach  of  the  invalid — that 
the  Colonel  took  out  a  dark  paste  from  the  box  with  his  knife, 
spread  a  portion  of  it  on  the  opened  bandage,  then  re-folded 
it  and  assisted  in  replacing  it  on  the  breast  or  stomach  and 
re-arranging  the  disordered  clothing.  This  done,  and  the 
box  put  back  into  his  pocket,  he  took  his  cap  and  stooped 
down  to  shake  hands  with  Richard  ;  whereupon  Josephine, 
knowing  that  his  way  out  would  be  through  the  parlor, 
shoved  the  two  doors  together  by  a  silent  but  very  nervous 
movement,  and  managed  to  escape  from  the  room  as  silently, 
before  the  Colonel's  hand  had  yet  been  laid  upon  the  glass 
door  to  open  it. 

There  were  half  a  dozen  unoccupied  rooms  on  the  next 
floor,  as  she  well  knew,  and  up  the  stairs  and  into  one  of 
these  she  bounded,  her  cheeks  still  more  aglow  than  they  had 
been  when  she  set  out  on  her  "reconnoissance,"  and  her  eyes 
still  more  wild  and  startled,  while  a  strange  tremor  creeping 
at  her  heart  told  her  that  she  had  been  witness  to  much  more 
than  could  yet  be  shaped  into  words  or  embodied  even  in 
thought !  Poor  girl ! — how  her  brain  throbbed  and  how  her 
heart  beat  like  ten  thousand  little  trip-hammers  1 — the  usual 
and  very  proper  penalty  which  we  pay  for  an  indiscretion  ! 


SHOULDEK-bTKAPS.  99 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Introduction  of  tiie  Contraband,  with  some  Reflections 
thereon — Three  Months  Before — Aunt  Synchy  and  tub 
Obi  poisoning — A  nice  little  Arrangement  of  Egbert 
Crawford's. 

Here  it  becomes  necessary  to  pause  and  introduce  a  new 
and  altogether  indispensable  character.  Not  new  to  tho 
world — sorrow  for  the  world  that  it  is  not !  Not  new  to  tho 
country — wo  to  the  country  that  it  has  filled  so  large  a  place 
in  its  history  J  But  something  new  in  this  veracious  narra- 
tion— the  contraband.  The  negro  must  come  in,  by  all  means 
and  at  all  hazards.  Time  was  when  romances  and  even  his- 
tories could  be  written  without  such  an  introduction  ;  but 
that  time  is  past  and  perhaps  past  forever.  "  I  and  Napo- 
leon," said  the  courier  of  Arves,  relating  some  incident  in 
which  he  had  temporarily  become  associated  with  the  for- 
tunes of  the  Great  Captain  ;  and  "  I  and  the  white  man  "  may 
Sambo  say  at  no  distant  day,  without  presumption  and  with- 
out outraging  the  dignity  of  position.  It  was  a  very  harm- 
less monster  that  Frankenstein  constructed,  apparently  ;  but 
it  grew  to  be  a  very  fearful  and  tyrannical  monster  before  he 
w:is  quite  done  with  it.  No  doubt  the  first  black  face  that 
grinned  on  the  Virginian  shoro,  a  couple  of  centuries  ago, 
seemed  more  an  object  of  mirth  than  of  terror — and  it  certainly 
gave  promise  of  profit.  But  he  is  a  man  of  mirthful  disposition 
who  sees  anything  to  laugh  at  in  tho  same  black  face,  grown 
older  and  broader  and  much  less  comical,  on  the  shore  of  tho 
same  Virginia  to-day.  The  white  race  and  the  black — the 
sharp  profile  and  the  broad  lip — the  springing  instep  and  the 
protuberant  heel — have  been  having  a  long  tussle,  with  the 
probabilities  for  a  while  all  on  the  side  of  the  white  :  to-day 
the  struggle  is  doubtful  if  not  decided  in  favor  of  the  black. 
"  Here  we  go,  up — up — uppy  !  Here  we  go,  down — down 
— downy  l»  the  children  used  to  sing  when  playing  see-saw 
with  a  broad  plank  on  the  fence  ;  and  they  understood,  what 
their  elders  sometimes  forget — that  the  rebound  of  extreme 


100  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

height  is  descent.    One  more  illustration,  before  this  train  of 
thought  necessarily  ecu 

Is  it  not  recorded  in  all  the  books  of  relative  history,  that 
the  Normans,  under  William  the  Conqueror,  invaded  and 
subjugated  Saxon  England  and  made  virtual  slaves  of  the 
unfortunate  countrymen  of  Harold  ?  Yet  who  were  the  con- 
quered eventually  ?  England  was  Saxon  within  fifty  years 
of  Hastings  :  England  is  Saxon  to-day.  The  broad  bosom 
of  the  Saxon  mother,  even  when  the  sire  of  her  child  WIS  I 
ravisher,  gave  out  drops  of  strength  that  moulded  it  in  spite 
of  him,  to  be  at  last  her  avenger  and  his  master  !  The  Saxon 
pirate  still  sweeps  the  seas  in  his  descendants  :  the  Norman 
robber  is  only  heard  of  at  long  intervals  when  he  meets  his 
opportunity  at  a  Balaklava.  The  revenges  of  history  are 
fearful;  and  if  the  end  of  human  experience  is  not  reached 
in  our  downfall,  other  races  will  be  careful  never  to  rivet  a 
chain  of  caste  or  color,  or  so  to  rivet  it  that  no  meddling 
fingers  of  fanaticism  can  ever  unloose  the  shackle  ! 

Perhaps  it  is  proper  as  well  as  inevitable  that  the  negro 
should  have  changed  his  place  and  mounted  astride  of  the 
national  neck  instead  of  being  trodden  under  the  national 
foot.  Everything  else  in  our  surroundings  has  changed — 
why  not  he  ?  We  do  not  yet  quite  understand  the  fact — it 
may  be  ;  but  the  foundations  of  the  old  in  society  have  been 
broken  up  as  effectually,  within  the  past  two  years,  as  were 
those  of  the  great  deep  at  the  time  of  Noah's  flood.  The  old 
deities  of  fashion  have  been  swept  away  in  the  flood  of  revo- 
lution. The  millionaire  of  two  years  ago,  intent  at  that  time 
on  the  means  by  which  the  revenues  from  his  brown-stone 
houses  and  pet  railroad  stocks  could  be  spent  to  the  most 
showy  advantage,  has  become  the  struggling  man  of  to-day, 
intent  upon  keeping  up  appearances,  and  happy  if  diminished 
and  doubtful  rents  can  even  be  made  to  meet  increasing  taxes. 
The  struggling  man  of  that  time  has  meanwhile  sprung  into 
fortune  and  position,  through  lucky  adventures  in  govern- 
ment transportations  or  army-contracts  ;  and  the  jewelers  of 
Broadway  and  Chestnut  Street  are  busy  resetting  the  dia- 
monds of  decayed  families,  to  sparkle  on  brows  and  bosoms 
that  only  a  little  while  ago  beat  with  pride  at  an  added  weight 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  101 

of  California  paste  or  Kentucky  rock-crystal.  The  most 
showy  equipages  that  (lashed  last  summer  at  Newport  and 
Saratoga,  were  never  seen   between  the  bathing-beach  and 

F.»rt  Adams,  or  between  Congress  Spring  and  the  Lake,  in 
the  old  days;  and  on  the  "  Dinorah"  nights  at  the  Academy* 
there  have  been  new  faces  in  the  most  prominent  boxes, 
almost  as  outre  and  unaccustomed  in  their  appearance  as 
was  that  of  the  hard -featured  Western  President,  framed  in 
a  shock  head  and  a  turn-down  collar,  meeting  the  gaze  of 
astonished  Murray  Hill,  when  he  passed  an  hour  there  on 
his  way  to  the  inauguration. 

Quite  as  notable  a  change  has  taken  place  in  personal 
reputation.  Many  of  the  men  on  whom  the  country  depended 
as  most  likely  to  prove  able  defenders  in  the  day  of  need, 
have  not  only  discovered  to  the  world  their  worthlessness, 
but  filled  up  the  fable  of  the  man  who  leaned  upon  a  reed, 
by  fatally  piercing  those  whom  they  had  betrayed  to  their 
fall.  Bubble-characters  have  burst,  and  high-sounding  phrases 
have  been  exploded.  Men  whose  education  and  antecedents 
should  have  made  them  brave  and  true,  have  shown  them- 
selves false  and  cowardly — impotent  for  good,  and  active  only 
for  evil.  Unconsidered  nobodies  have  meanwhile  sprung 
forth  from  the  mass  of  the  people,  and  equally  astonished 
themselves  and  others  by  the  power,  wisdom  and  courage 
they  have  displayed.  In  cabinet  and  camp,  in  army  and 
navy,  in  the  editorial  chair  and  in  the  halls  of  eloquence,  the 
men  from  whom  least  was  expected  have  done  most,  and 
those  upon  whom  the  greatest  expectations  had  been  founded 
have  only  given  another  proof  of  the  fallacy  of  all  human  cal- 
culations. All  has  been  change,  all  has  been  transition,  in 
the  estimation  men  have  held  of  themselves  and  the  light  in 
which  they  presented  themselves  to  each  other. 

Opinions  of  duties  and  recognitions  of  necessities  have 
known  a  change  not  less  remarkable.  What  yesterday  we 
believed  to  be  fallacy,  to-day  we  know  to  be  the  truth. 
What  seemed  the  fixed  and  immutable  purpose  of  God  only 
a  few  short  months  ago,  we  have  already  discovered  to  have 

*  December  1802. 


102  SHOULDEK-STKAPS. 

been  founded  only  in  human  passion  or  ambition.  What 
seemed  eternal  has  passed  awny,  and  what  appeared  to 
be  evanescent  has  assumed  stability.  The  storm  has  been 
racing  around  us,  and  doing  its  work  not  the  less  destruc- 
tively because  we  failed  to  perceive  that  we  were  passing 
through  anything  more  threatening  than  a  summer  shower. 
While  we  have  stood  upon  the  bank  of  the  swelling  river, 
and  pointed  to  some  structure  of  old  rising  on  the  bank, 
declaring  that  not  a  stone  could  be  moved  until  the  very 
heavens  should  fall,  little  by  little  the  foundations  have  been 
undermined,  and  the  full  crash  of  its  falling  has  first  awoke 
us  from  our  security.  That  without  which  we  said  that  the 
nation  could  not  live,  has  fallen  and  been  destroyed ;  and 
yet  we  know  not  whether  the  nation  dies,  or  grows  to  abet- 
ter and  more  enduring  life.  What  we  cherished  we  have 
lost ;  what  we  did  not  ask  or  expect  has  come  to  us ;  the 
effete  but  reliable  old  is  passing  away,  and  out  of  the  ashes 
of  its  decay  is  springing  forth  a  new  so  unexpected  and  so 
little  prepared  for  that  it  may  be  salvation  or  destruction  as 
the  hand  of  God  shall  rule.  The  past  of  the  nation  lies  with 
the  sunken  Cumberland  in  the  waters  of  Hampton  Roads ; 
its  future  floats  about  in  a  new-fangled  Monitor,  that  may 
combat  and  defeat  the  navies  of  the  world  or  go  to  the  bottom 
with  one  inglorious  plunge.*  And  this  general  transition 
brings  us  back  to  the  negro,  whose  apotheosis  is  after  all 
only  a  part  of  the  inevitable,  and  may  be  only  the  flash  before 
his  final  and  welcome  disappearance. 

Our  contraband  is  a  woman,  and  she  comes  upon  the 
scene  of  action  in  this  wise,  retrospectively. 

Some  three  months  before  the  events  recorded  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapters,  to  wit  about  the  middle  of  March,  Egbert 
Crawford,  Tombs  lawyer,  doing  a  thriving  business  in  the 
line  especially  affected  by  such  gentry,  and  not  yet  elevated 
to  a  Colonel's  commission  in  the  volunteer  army  by  the 
parental  forethought  of  Governor  Edwin  D.  Morgan, — had 
occasion  to  visit  that  portion  of  Thomas  Street  lying  between 
West  Broadway  and  Hudson.     The  locality  is  not  by  any 

*  Written  three  days  before  the  foundering  of  the  Monitor  off 
Hatteras,  Dec.  31st  1862. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  103 

means  a  pleasant  one,  either  for  the  eyo  or  the  other  senses, 
and  the  character  of  the  street  is  not  materially  improved  by 
the  recollection  of  the  Ellen  Jewett  murder,  which  occurred 
on  the  south  side,  within  a  few  doors  of  Hudson.  Garbage 
left  Unremoved  by  Hackley  festers  alike  on  pavement,  side- 
walk and  gutter ;  and  a  mass  of  black  and  white  humanity 
(the  former  predominating)  left  unremoved  by  the  civilization 
of  New  York  in  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
festers  within  the  crazy  and  tumble-down  tenements.  Colored 
cotton  handkerchiefs  wrapping  woolly  heads,  and  shoes 
slouched  at  the  heel  furnishing  doubtful  covering  to  feet 
redolent  of  filth  and  crippled  by  disease — alternate  with  the 
scanty  habiliments  of  black  and  white  children,  brought  up 
in  the  kennel  and  reduced  by  blows,  mud  and  exposure  to  a 
woful  similarity  of  hue.  The  whiskey  bottle  generally  ac- 
companies the  basket  with  a  quart  of  decayed  potatoes,  from 
the  grocery  at  the  corner ;  and  even  the  begged  calf  's-liver 
or  the  stolen  beef-bone  comes  home  accompanied  by  a  flavor 
of  bad  gin.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  few  shutters  hang  by 
the  eye-lids,  and  that  even  the  wagon-boys  who  vend  ante- 
diluvian vegetables  from  castaway  wagons  drawn  by  twenty- 
shilling  horse-frames,  hurry  through  without  any  hope  in  the 
yells  intended  to  attract  custom. 

Any  observer  who  should  have  seen  the  neatly-dressed 
lawyer  peering  into  the  broken  doors  and  up  the  black  stair- 
cases of  Thomas  Street,  would  naturally  have  supposed  his 
visit  connected  with  some  revelation  of  crime,  and  that  he 
was  either  looking  up  a  witness  whose  testimony  might  be 
necessary  to  save  a  perilled  burglar  from  Sing  Sing,  or  taking 
measures  to  keep  one  hidden  who  might  have  told  too  much 
if  brought  upon  the  witness-stand.  And  yet  Egbert  Craw- 
ford was  really  visiting  that  den  of  black  squalor  with  a  very 
different  object — to  find  an  old  darkey  woman  who  was  re- 
ported as  living  in  that  street,  and  in  his  capacity  as  one  of 
the  eleven  hundred  and  fifty  Commissioners  of  Deeds  of  the 
City  and  County  of  New  York,  to  procure  her  "  VA  mark  " 
and  take  her  acknowledgment  in  the  little  matter  of  a  quit- 
claim deed.  A  very  harmless  purpose,  in  itself,  certainly ; 
and  yet  the  observer  might  have  been  nearer  right  in  his 


10-i  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

suspicion  than  even  the  lawyer  himself  believed,  when  the 
whole  result  of  the  visit  was  taken  into  account. 

One  of  the  ricketty  houses  on  the  south  side  of  the  street, 
nut  far  from  the  Ellen  Jewett  house,  and  not  much  further 
from  the  equally  celebrated  panel-house  which  furnished  the 
weekly  papers  with  illustrations  of  that  peculiar  speci 
man-trap  a  few  years  ago — seemed  to  the  seeker  to  hear  out 
the  description  that  had  been  given  him.  The  door  was  wide 
open,  and  all  within  appeared  to  be  a  sort  of  dark  cabin  out 
of  which  issued  occasional  sounds  of  quarrelling-  voices  and 
continual  pull's  of  fetid  air  foul  enough  to  sicken  the  strongest 
stomach.  He  went  in.  as  one  of  the  lost  might  go  into 
Pandemonium,  impelled  by  an  imperious  necessity.  He 
mounted  the  ricketty  and  creaking  stair,  with  the  bannister 
half  gone  and  the  steps  groaning  beneath  his  tread  as  if  they 
contained  the  spirits  of  the  dead  respectability  that  had  left 
them  half  a  century  before.  He  had  been  told  that  the  old 
woman  lived  on  the  third  floor,  and  though  he  met  no  one  he 
concluded  to  dare  the  perils  of  a  second  ascent,  in  spite  of 
the  landing  place  being  in  almost  pitchy  darkness.  Rushing 
along  with  a  hasty  step  that  even  the  gloom  could  not  make 
a  slower  one,  he  felt  something  bump  against  his  knees  and 
the  lower  part  of  his  body,  and  then  something  human  fell  to 
the  floor  with  a  crash  that  had  the  jingling  of  broken  crockery 
blended  with  it. 

"Boo  !  hoo  !  hoo  !  e-e-e-gh  !  Mammy  !  Mammy!"  yelled  a 
voice.  "Boo!  hoo  !  hoo!  e-e-e-gh  !  Mammy!  Mammy!"  and 
Crawford  could  just  discern  that  he  had  run  over  and  par- 
tially demolished  a  little  negro  boy  carrying  a  pitcher,  the 
pitcher  and  the  boy  seeming  to  have  suffered  about  equally. 
Neither  of  them  had  any  nose  left,  to  speak  of;  and  the  little 
imp  did  not  make  any  effort  to  rise  from  the  floor,  but  lay 
there  and  yelled  merrily.  The  victor  in  the  collision  did  not 
have  much  time  for  inspection,  for  the  moment  after  a  door  at 
the  back  end  of  the  passage  opened  hurriedly,  and  a  hideous 
old  negro  woman  came  rushing  out,  with  a  sputtering  frag- 
ment of  lighted  tallow-candle  in  her  hand,  and  exclaiming : 

"  What's  de  matter,  Jeffy  ?    Here  am  Mamma  I" 

"  Big  man  run'd  ober  me  1   broke  de  pitcher  !    Boo  !  hoo  1 


SIIOULDEK-STRAPS.  105 

hoo  !"  yelled  the  black  atom  in  reply,  without  any  additional 
effort  at  getting-  up. 

"  Get  out  ob  dar  !  d — n  you,  I  run'd  ober  you,  mind  dat  I" 
screeched  out  the  old  woman,  catching  sight  of  the  dark 
form  of  Crawford.  "  llurtin'  leetle  boys! — I  pay  you  for  it, 
honey  !" 

"  I  hit  him  accidentally,"  said  the  lawyer,  who  had  no  in- 
tention of  getting  into  a  row  in  that  "negro  quarter."  "It 
was  dark,  and  I  did  not  see  him.     I'll  pay  for  the  pitcher." 

"  Will  you,  honey  ?"  said  the  old  woman,  mollifying  in- 
stantly. "  Well  den,  'spose  you  couldn't  help  it.  Get  up, 
Jelly." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  whether  Mrs.  lives  on  any  of  the 

floors  of  this  house  ?"  asked  Crawford. 

11  Nebber  mind  dat,  till  you  gib  me  de  money  !"  answered 
the  old  woman,  not  to  be  diverted  by  any  side-issues.  "  Dat 
are  pitcher  cost  a  quarter,  honey  !" 

Crawford  was  feeling  in  his  pocket  for  one  of  the  quaiters 
that  yet  remained  in  that  receptacle,  preparatory  to  going 
out  of  circulation  altogether,— when  the  old  crone,  eager  for 
the  money,  stuck  her  candle  somewhat  nearer  his  face  than  it 
had  before  been  held.  Instantly  her  withered  face  assumed 
a  new  expression  of  intelligence,  and  her  hand  shook  so  that 
she  almost  dropped  the  candle,  as  she  cried  : 

11  Merciful  Lord  and  Marser !  If  dat  are  ain't  young  Eg- 
bert Crawford  !" 

"  My  name  is  certainly  Egbert  Crawford  !"  said  that  indi- 
vidual, very  much  surprised  in  his  turn.  "  But  who  are  you 
that  know  me  V\ 

"  Don't  know  his  ole  Aunt  Synchy  1"  exclaimed  the  old 
woman. 

11  Aunt  Synchy  !  Aunt  Synchy  !"  said  the  lawyer,  trying 
to  recollect  the  past  very  rapidly,  and  catching  some  glim- 
mers.    "  What  ?    Aunt  Synchy  that  used  to  live  at — " 

"  Used  to  live  at  old  Tom  Crawford's.  Lor  bress  you,  yes  ! 
Why  come  in,  honey  !"  and  before  the  lawyer  could  answer 
further,  he  was  literally  dragged  through  the  dingy  door  by 
the  still  vigorous  old  woman,  and  found  himself  inside  her 


106  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

apartment,  Master  Jeffy  and  his  pitcher  being  left  neglected 
on  the  entry  floor. 

Once  within  the  door,  and  in  the  better  light  afforded  even 
by  the  dingy  windows,  Crawford  had  a  better  opportunity  to 
observe  the  old  woman,  and  he  now  found  no  difficulty  in 
recalling  something  more  than  the  name.  She  might  have 
been  sixty-five  or  seventy  )-ears  of  age,  to  judge  by  the 
wrinkles  on  her  face  and  the  white  of  her  eyebrows,  though 
her  hair  was  hidden  under  a  gaudy  and  dirty  cotton  plaid 
handkerchief  and  her  tall  form  seemed  little  bowed  by  age. 
Two  coal-black  eyes,  showing  no  diminution  of  their  natural 
fire,  gleamed  from  under  those  white  eyebrows  ;  and  on  the 
portions  of  the  cheeks  yet  left  smooth  enough  to  show  the 
texture  of  the  skin,  there  were  deep  gashes  that  had  once 
been  the  tattooing  of  her  barbarian  youth  and  beauty.  Her 
hands  were  withered,  much  more  than  her  face,  and  seemed 
skinny  and  claw-like.  Her  dress,  which  had  once  been  plaid 
cotton  gingham,  was  fearfully  dirty  and  unskilfully  patched 
with  other  material ;  and  the  frayed  silk  shawl  thrown  around 
her  old  shoulders  might  have  been  rescued  from  a  rag-heap 
in  the  streets  to  serve  that  turn. 

The  room,  as  Crawford  readily  noticed,  was  almost  as  re- 
markable in  appearance  as  the  old  woman  herself.  There 
was  nothing  singular  in  the  bare  floor,  the  pine  table  and  two 
or  three  broken  chairs  ;  for  something  very  like  them,  or 
worse,  can  be  found  in  almost  every  miserable  tenement  where 
virtue  struggles  or  vice  swelters,  in  the  slums  of  the  great 
city.  Neither  was  there  anything  notable  in  the  smoke- 
greased  walls  and  ceiling,  the  miserable  fireplace  with  one 
cracked  kettle  and  a  red  earthen  bowl,  and  the  wretched  bed 
of  rags  stuck  away  in  one  of  the  corners,  on  which  evidently 
both  the  old  crone  and  Master  Jeffy  made  their  sad  pretence 
at  sleep. 

But  what  really  was  singular  in  the  appearance  of  the 
apartment,  and  what  Crawford  noted  at  once,  although  he 
did  not  allude  to  it  until  afterwards,  was — first,  a  ghastly 
attempt  at  painting,  hanging  behind  the  chimney,  represent- 
ing a  death's-head  and  cross-bones,  which  might  have  been 
executed  by  an  artist  in  whitewash,  on  a  ground  of  black 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  107 

muslin.  Second,  a  hanging  shelf  in  one  corner,  with  a  dozen 
or  two  of  dingy  small  bottles  and  vials,  and  a  rod  lying 
across  it,  apparently  made  from  a  black  birchen  switch, 
peeled  in  sections.  Third,  and  most  important  of  all,  a 
string  of  twine  suspended  from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the 
other,  in  front  of  the  fire-place  and  near  the  ceiling,  and  hung 
with  objects  that  required  a  moment  to  recognize.  Among 
them,  when  closely  examined,  could  be  found  two  or  three 
bats,  dried  ;  a  string  of  snake's  eggs,  blackened  by  being 
smoked  ;  a  tail  and  two  legs  of  a  black  cat ;  a  bunch  of  the  dried 
leaves  of  the  black  hellebore  ;  a  snake's  skin — not  the  "  shed- 
der"  or  superficial  skin,  but  the  cuticle  itself,  peeled  from  the 
writhing  reptile  ;  two  objects  that  might  have  been  spotted 
toads,  run  over  by  wagons  until  thoroughly  flattened — then 
dried  ;  and  one  object  which  could  not  well  be  anything 
more  or  less  than  the  hand  of  a  child  a  few  weeks  old,  cut 
off  just  above  the  wrist  and  subjected  to  some  kind  of  em- 
balming or  drying  process. 

The  purposes  of  this  narrative  do  not  require  the  recording 
of  all  the  conversation  which  took  place  between  the  Tombs 
lawyer  and  Aunt  Synchy,  when  the  latter  had  dusted  off  one 
of  the  miserable  chairs  and  forced  the  former  down  into  it, 
taking  another  herself,  sitting  square  in  front  of  him,  and 
thrusting  her  face  so  close  into  his  that  the  withered  features 
seemed  almost  plastered  against  his  own.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  that  conversation  corroborated  the  suspicion  which 
the  first  words  of  the  crone  would  have  engendered — that 
Aunt  Synchy,  in  her  younger  days,  had  been  a  slave  in  the 
Crawford  family,  in  a  neighboring  State  where  the  institution 
had  not  yet  been  entirely  abolished — and  that,  at  last  manu- 
mitted by  a  mistaken  kindness,  she  had  finally  wandered 
away  to  the  crime  and  misery  of  negro  life  in  the  great  city. 
She  retained,  as  people  of  that  feudal  class  always  do,  a  vivid 
recollection  of  her  early  life  and  of  all  the  residents  of  the 
section  where  she  had  lived  ;  and  Egbert  Crawford,  who  was 
in  the  habit  of  putting  many  questions  to  others,  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  answering  quite  so  many  as  the  old  woman  put 
to  him  concerning  the  intermediate  histories  of  the  families 
7 


108  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

of  which  she  had  now  lost  sight  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century. 

In  this  conversation  it  became  apparent,  too,  that  Thomas 
Crawford,  the  father  of  Egbert,  had  been  the  quasi  owner  of 
Synchy,  and  that  she  retained  for  the  son  something  of  that 
singular  attachment  which  appears  to  be  inseparable  from  any 
description  of  feudality.  Thomas  Crawford,  it  would  appear; 
had  had  two  brothers,  Richard,  tbe  father  of  the  present 
Richard  Crawford  and  of  John,  the  soldier,  both  Thomas  and 
Richard  being  then  dead  and  their  families  in  the  country 
broken  up.  Another  brother,  John,  had  become  very 
wealthy,  and  appeared  to  be  living,  with  Mary,  an  only 
daughter,  at  West  Falls,  in  the  Oneida  Valley.  Finally,  it 
became  quite  apparent  that  the  old  crone,  whatever  her 
attachment  to  the  family  of  Thomas  Crawford,  did  not  hold 
the  same  feudal  regard  for  some  of  the  other  members  of  the 
family — in  short,  that  she  had  retained  the  memory  of  certain 
supposed  early  slights  and  injuries,  quite  as  closely  as  she 
had  done  the  softer  and  more  grateful  sentiments  towards 
others. 

"  So  Dick  am  rich,  am  he,  honey  ?  an  you  am  poor  ?  Tut ! 
tut !  dat  is  too  bad  for  de  son  of  ole  Marser  Tom  !"  said  the 
old  crone,  after  the  lapse  of  half  an  hour  in  which  both 
tongues  had  been  running  pretty  rapidly. 

"He  is,"  said  Crawford,  his  face  expressing  no  strong 
sense  of  satisfaction  at  the  recollection.  "He  bought 
property  in  the  new  parts  of  the  city,  twelve  or  fifteen  years 
ago,  and  the  rise  has  been  so  great  that  it  has  made  him  rich. 
He  is  now  living  on  Murray  Hill,  in  style,  though,  d — n 
him  I"  and  the  face  now  was  very  sinister  indeed,  "  he  has 
been  attacked  with  inflammatory  rheumatism  and  confined 
for  some  weeks  to  his  house,  so  that  I  don't  think  he  enjoys 
it  all  very  much." 

"  An  Uncle  John's  big  property,"  the  old  woman  went  on — 
"  Dick  is  to  have  all  dat,  too,  you  tink  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  Mary,"  answered  Crawford.  "  Mary  is  a  pretty 
little  girl,  and  worth  as  much  as  all  the  property.  Dick  has 
managed  to  get  around  the  old  man,  somehow,  and  if  I  can't 
stop  it — " 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  109 

"Eh,  yes,  if  you  can't  stop  'urn !"  said  the  old  crone,  rub- 
bing her  skinny  hands  together  as  if  this,  at  least,  pleased  her. 
u  lias  you  tried,  honey  ?" 

Egbert  Crawford,  Tombs  lawyer,  as  has  before  been  said, 
was  much  more  in  the  habit  of  putting  others  under  close 
cross-examination,  than  allowing  himself  to  be  subjected  to 
the  same  sifting  process.  But  whether  he  had  his  own 
motives  for  telling  the  old  woman  the  truth,  or  whether  he 
saw  that  those  coal  black  old  eyes  were  looking  through  him 
and  divining  all  that  he  wished  or  intended — he  certainly 
submitted  to  the  question  and  told  the  truth,  in  the  present 
instance  : 

"  Yes,  d — n  him  once  more  !" 

"  You  want  Mary  and  de  property  bofe  ?"  asked  the  old 
woman  again. 

"Both !"  answered  the  lawyer,  after  one  more  instant  of 
hesitation  and  one  more  glance  into  the  coal  black  eyes.  "  I 
don't  care  if  you  know  all  about  rU— you  daren't  betray  me, 
for  your  life  I" 

"  Don't  want  to,  honey  !"  was  all  the  old  woman's  reply; 
and  the  lawyer  went  on  : 

"  I  have  been  twice  up  at  West  Falls  since  Dick  was  taken 
ill,  and  I  think  I^have  set  some  reports  in  circulation  there, 
that  may  make  Miss  Mary  hesitate,  if  they  do  not  change  the 
old  man's  will.  How  will  that  do,  Aunt  Synchy — you  old 
black  anatomy  ?     Eh  ?" 

"  Spose  I  am  an  'atomy,"  said  the  old  woman,  apparently 
rather  pleased  with  the  epithet  than  otherwise.  "  But  Lor' 
bread  you,  chile,  dat  won't  do  at  all  I  You  ain't  ole  enough 
yet !"  and  there  was  an  unmistakable  sneer  on  the  withered 
black  face,  to  think  that  any  body  could  be  so  verdant. 

"  Ah  !"  said  Egbert  Crawford,  who  neither  liked  the  sneer 
nor  the  intimation.  "  What  more  could  I  do,  I  should  like 
to  know?" 

What  was  it  that  Jeremy  Taylor  said — that  old  silver- 
tongued  Bishop  of  Down,  Connor  and  Dromore,  in  Ireland  ? 
— "  Xo  disease  cometh  so  much  with  our  breath,  drinking 
from  the  infected' lips  of  others,  as  with  the  vessels  of  our 


110  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

own  bodies  that  are  ready  to  receive  it."  Shakspeare  saya 
the  same  thing  of  mirth,  when  he  records  that 

*'  A  jest's  prosperity  lies  in  the  ear 
Of  him  that  hears  it,  never  in  the  tongue 
Of  him  that  makes  it." 

Artemus  Ward,  when  he  sets  whole  audiences  into  broad 
roars  of  laughter  over  his  odd  conceits  of  "  carrying  pepper- 
mint to  General  Price"  or  "  going  to  be  measured  for  an 
umbrella,"  may  doubt  the  truth  of  this  assertion ;  and  Lester 
Wallaek  or  Xed  Sothern,  when  inspiring  chuckles  that  almost 
threaten  the  life,  may  share  in  the  infidelity :  but  let  all  these 
remember  that  their  audiences  come  to  be  amused,  and  that 
their  best  drolleries  might  fall  very  flat  indeed  at  a  Quaker 
meeting  or  in  a  hospital  devoted  to  men  with  the  jumping 
tooth-ache !  The  conditions  of  Crime  are  like  those  of 
Disease  and  Mirth — the  patient  must  be  ready  before  the 
inoculation  can  take  place.  Eve  was  unquestionably  wishing 
for  a  break  in  the  already  dull  routine  of  her  life  in  Eden, 
before  the  Serpent  dared  to  make  his  appearance ;  and 
Arnold  had  some  treason  crudely  floating  through  his  mind, 
even  if  not  that  particular  treason,  before  the  overtures  of 
the  British  commander  led  him  to  the  attempted  betrayal  of 
the  Key"  of  the  Highlands.  Egbert  Crawford,  Tombs  lawyer, 
when  he  said  to  Aunt  Synchy,  "  What  more  could  I  do,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?"  meant  to  be  understood  as  asserting 
that  nothing  more  was  in  his  power  ;  but  there  was  really  in 
his  heart  the  wish  for  aid  in  some  higher  crime  to  effect  his 
purposes  ;  and  the  tempter  came  ! 

"  All  dat  goin'  away  from  you,  and  nobody  in  de  way  but 
dat  miserable  chile  !"  was  the  only  comment  of  the  old  wo- 
man on  Crawford's  last  question. 

"  So  I  suppose,"  was  the  puzzled  answer. 

"Why  don't  you  have  a  good  doctor  for  him,  honey!" 
asked  the  old  woman,  next. 

"A  good  doctor?"  queried  Crawford,  still  more  puzzled. 
"  Why  curse  it,  woman,  what  are  you  talking  about?  Won't 
he  get  well  too  soon,  now,  and  perhaps  be  up  at  West 
Falls  before  I  am  more  than  half  ready  for  him  ?" 


SHOULDER -STRAP  3.  Ill 

"  Oh,  you  poor  chile— you  don't  half  understan'  dis  ole 
woman  I"  chuckled  the  crone,  delighted  to  find  that  she  had 
puzzled  the  lawyer.  "  Spose  de  good  doctor  so  good  that  he 
nebber  get  well  ?     Eh,  honey  ?" 

"  What  ?  poison  F"  broke  out  the  lawyer,  catching  at  the 
old  woman's  meaning  so  suddenly  that  he  could  not  quite 
control  his  voice. 

"  Hush-h-h  !  you  fool !"  hissed  the  old  woman,  rising  at 
once,  hobbling  to  the  door  and  opening  it  suddenly — then 
closing  it  and  returning  to  her  chair.  "  You  call  yourself  a 
lawyer,  honey,  and  do  such  things  as  dat  'are  ?  Done  you 
know  dem  policers  are  sneakin'  aroun'  ebbery where,  up  de 
si  airways  as  well  as  ebbery  where  else  ?  An  if  one  of  dem 
happened  to  hear  you  speak  such  w*ords,  dis  ole  woman  take 
a  ride  up  to  de  Islan'  in  de  Black  Maria,  and  you  go  to  de 
debbil,  sure  !     Know  all  about  'em,  honey — been  dare  afore  !" 

"  Humph  !"  said  the  lawyer,  nevertheless  using  lower  voice 
even  for  the  disclaimer.  "  jSo  danger,  Aunty,  I  guess ! 
There  are  no  policemen  now-a-days — only  Provost-Marshal 
Kennedy's  spies,  looking  for  traitors.  But  what  do  you 
mean  ? — that  I  should  get  a  doctor  to — to — put  him  out  of 
the  way  ?" 

°  Pats  jes  it,  honey  !"  said  the  old  woman,  again  rubbing 
her  hands.  "  He  is  in  de  way — put  him  out  and  have  de  ole 
man's  money." 

"  Impossible  !"  spoke  Egbert  Crawford,  in  a  tone  which 
would  have  told  a  close  observer — and  probably  told  the  old 
woman— that  he  only  meant :   "  I  do  not  see  how  to  do  it." 

"  Give  urn  somefin,"  graphically  said  the  crone. 

u  What !"  spoke  the  lawyer,  almost  in  as  loud  a  tone  as  he 
had  before  used,  and  rising  from  his  chair  in  apparent  indig- 
nation. 

"  Sit  down,  honey,"  said  the  old  woman,  with  the  same 
sneer  in  her  voice  that  had  before  been  apparent.  "  Oh,  I 
know  you  is  a  good  man  and  wouldn't  do  nuffin  to  hurt 
Cousin  Dickey.  Didn't  kill  his  dog,  nor  nuffin,  did  you, 
honey,  a  good  wile  ago,  jes  because  you  didn't  like  him. 
Don't  do  nuffin  now,  if  you  don't  want  to !  Let  him  have 
de  girl,  an  de  ole  man's  money,  an — " 


112  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"Woman!"  said  Egbert  Crawford,  rising  altogether  this 
time,  and  pacing  the  floor  like  a  man  a  good  deal  unquieted. 
u  I  hate  Dick  Crawford,  and  you  know  it.  I  want  Uncle 
John's  money  and  I  want  Mary,  and  he  is  in  my  way  in  both 
cases.  You  may  as  well  know  the  whole  truth — I  hate  him 
enough  to  'put  him  out  of  the  way,'  as  we  Lave  both  called 
it,  but  the  thing  is  impossible.  Any  doctor  to  whom  I  should 
speak  would  have  me  arrested  at  once,  for  though  they  poison 
they  do  not  wish  to  be  suspected  of  such  operations ;  and 
there  is  no  other  way.  He  will  get  well  and  go  up  to  West 
Falls,  and  then  all  is  over  !"  and  the  lawyer  sunk  his  head 
on  his  breast  as  if  lie  had  been  the  most  ill-used  of  indi- 
viduals. 

"Not  while  your  ole  Aunty  libs,  Mareer  Egbert,  if  you  dar 
do  what  she  tells  you  !" 

The  words  struck  some  chord  previously  active  in  the 
brain  of  Crawford.  He  glanced  up  at  the  string  of  articles 
on  the  line  of  twine,  then  stopped  short  in  his  walk,  before 
the  old  woman. 

"Well?" 

"  Oh,  you  see  dem  tings,  and  you  is  coming  to  it,  is  you, 
honey  !"  chuckled  the  crone.  "  You  'member  what  Aunt 
Synchy  is,  now  ?" 

"Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Crawford,  "though  1  forget  the 
name.     You  are  an  0 — Ogee — Odee — no,  0 — " 

"An  Obi  woman!"  said  the  crone,  rising  and  stretching 
herself  to  her  full  height,  with  a  look  that  was  commanding 
in  spite  of  her  squalor.  "You  'member  somefin,  but  not 
much.  We  be  great  people  in  Jamaica.  Up  in  de  hills 
'bove  Spanish  Town,  we  are  de  kings  and  de  queens.  De 
great  Obi  spirit  come  down  to  us,  when  de  moon  am  at  its 
last  quarter,  an  he  tell  us  how  to  cure  and  how  to  kill.  We 
mix  de  charm  at  midnight,  wid  de  great  Obi  'pearin'  to  us 
all  de  time  in  de  smoke  dat  rises  from  de  kettle,  an  de  secert 
words  all  de  time  a  mutterin' ;  and  de  charm  works,  an  kills 
or  cures  'way  off  hunerds  of  miles,  'cordin'  as  we  want  urn 
fortour  friens  or  our  enemies.     Does  you  hear,  honey  ?" 

"  I  hear  !"  said  Egbert  Crawford,  for  the  moment  absorbed 
if  not  fascinated  by  the  developments  of  this  real  or  affected 


S  II  O  U  h  D  B  It  -  8  T  U  A  P  S.  113 

superstition  ;  but  not  carried  away,  it  may  be  believed,  from 
the  influence  which  this  hideous  old  woman  might  be  able  to 
exert  on  his  own  fortunes. 

"  Mammy — you  don't  'member  ole  Mammy  ?" — the  old 
woman  went  on.  "  Captain  Lewis  brought  Mammy  an  me 
from  Jamaica  more'n  fifty  years  ago.  She  mus'  have  died 
when  you  was  a  little  picanninny.  She  was  de  great  Obi 
woman,  de  queen  of  dem  all ;  and  sho  tole  me  afore  she  died, 
so's  1  could  do  mos'as  much.  Many's  de  lub  potion  Mammy 
an  me  has  mixed  up,  dat  has  made  some  ob  de  wite  bosoms 
fuller  afore  dey  was  done  wrorkin  ;  and  many's  de  charm — " 

"Poh!  nonsense!  don't  say 'charm';  call  it 'dose' !"  broke 
in  the  lawyer,  at  last  impatient.  "  I  believe  you  can  kill, 
whether  you  can  cure  or  not,  Aunt  Synchy ;  but  I  am  a  man, 
with  some  experience  in  the  world,  and  I  don't  believe  in 
your  Obi.  All  your  dead  cats  and  babies'  hands  and  snakes 
yonder,  are  just  so  many  tricks  to  influence  the  superstitious. 
/  know  better,  and  they  don't  influence  me  /" 

"  Oh,  dey  doesn't,  eh,  honey  ?  You  is  too  smart  an  don't 
believe  in  de  Obi  ?"  For  the  moment  her  face  was  lowering 
and  threatening — then  it  changed  again  to  the  same  wrinkled 
Sphynx  as  before.  "  Nebber  mind — you  is  my  boy,  an  I  lubs 
you,  an  so  you  'suit  de  ole  woman  widout  de  Obi  payin'  you 
for  it!  Call  it  '  dose,'  then,  honey — many's  de  dose  dat  dese 
hana  have  mixed,  dat  has  made  de  coffin-maker  hab  some  fin 
to  do  and  sent  de  property   where  it  belonged." 

u  I  believe  you  !"  was  the  laconic  comment  of  Egbert 
Crawford,  when  the  crone,  spite  of  his  interruptions,  had 
finished  her  long  rigmarole.  What  followed  may  quite  as 
Well  be  imagined  as  described.  Richard  Crawford  was 
doomed  to  be  operated  upon  by  one  of  those  insidious  and 
deadly  vegetable  poisons,  outwardly  applied,  in  which  none 
have  such  horrible  skill  as  the  crones  of  the  African  race  who 
hare  derived  their  knowledge  from  the  "West  India  Islands. 
Whether  it  should  be  brought  near  the  head  by  concealment 
in  a  pillow,  or  near  the  more  vital  portions  of  the  body  itself 
through  use  of  a  bandage  worn  near  the  skin, — the  effect 
would  be  the  same — insensible  debilitation,  decline,  death  ! 
But  the  latter  plan  would  be  much  the  more  rapid  ;  and  in 


114  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  11  -  S  T  K  A  P  S. 

neither  event,  when  the  deed  wu  done,  would  there  be  one 
mark,  perceptible  even  to  the  dissecting  surgeon,  telling  that 
other  than  natural  decay  had  brought  about  dissolution. 

Ten  minutes  afterwards,  Aunt  Synchy  was  busy  compound- 
ing a  black  jiasle,  from  various  preparation.-  which  she  found 
among  the  vials  on  the  shelf  and  under  one  corner  of  the 
heap  of  rags  which  she  called  her  bed — crooning  all  the 
while  a  dismal  attempt  at  a  tune  which  made  even  the  not- 
over-sensitive  lawyer  shudder,  and  putting  the  mixture  at 
last  into  his  hands  with  a  "  Lor'  bress  you,  honey  !"  which 
might  have  made  any  one  shudder  if  he  had  understood  the 
connection.  Fifteen  minutes  later,  the  Tombs  lawyer  left 
Thomas  Street,  without  the  information  of  which  he  had 
originally  come  in  search,  but  his  mind  now  full  of  other 
things,  and  bearing  in  his  mind  the  mental  label  of  the  pre- 
scription :   "  to  be  used  as  directed." 

So  vice  buds  into  crime  whenever  opportunity  offers,  and 
the  Hazaels  of  the  world,  who  have  believed  that  they  never 
could  be  brought  to  "  do  this  thing,"  pursue  it  with  an  energy 
and  determination  shaming  the  efforts  of  older  offenders. 
Yesterday  only  an  illicit  lover  :  to-day  the  destroyer  of  chil- 
dren unborn  1  Yesterday  only  an  ordinary  scoundrel :  to- 
day the  worst  and  most  deadly  of  all  murderers — the  poi- 
soner ! 

Three  months  later — to  wit,  toward  the  close  of  June — 
that  state  of  affairs  was  existing  at  the  house  of  Richard 
Crawford,  which  has  before  been  indicated.  What  was  it, 
indeed,  that  Josephine  Harris  had  dimly  discovered  ? 


S  HO  U  LDER-STil  A  I' S.  115 


CHAPTER   YIII. 

Tin:  Two  Rivals  at  Judge  Owen's — A  Combat  a  la 
outrange  between  the  bancker  and  the  wallace — 
Almost  a  Challenge,  and  a  Trial  of  Every-day 
Courage. 

Return  we  now  to  the  somewhat  too-long  neglected  Miss 
Emily  Owen  and  the  other  inmates  and  intimates  of  Judge 
Owen's  pleasant  house  near  the  Harlem  River. 

Some  days  had  elapsed  after  the  conversation  between 
Emily  and  Aunt  Martha,  bringing  the  time  to  the  first  of 
J  ul  v  and  the  commencement  of  that  fire-cracker  abomination 
that  was  to  culminate  on  the  Fourth  in  a  general  distraction. 
Some  days  had  elapsed — as  has  already  been  noted  ;  and 
judging  by  the  person  who  sat  nearest  to  Miss  Emily  Owen 
in  the  faintly-lighted  parlor,  at  about  half  past  eight  in  the 
evening,  the  Judge's  praises  of  Col.  Bancker  and  animad- 
versions of  Frank  Wallace  had  not  been  without  their  effect 
on  the  young  girl.  Both  the  rival  suitors  wrere  present,  and 
so  was  Aunt  Martha ;  but  Frank  Wallace  made  a  some- 
what dim  and  undefined  picture  as  he  sat  near  one  of  the 
front  windows,  apparently  observing  the  boys  deep  in  the 
mysteries  of  fire-crackers  and  torpedoes ;  while  the  Colonel 
was  in  altogether  a  better  light  as  he  sat  near  Emily  and 
nearly  under  the  half-lighted  chandelier.  Emily  wTas  in- 
dulging in  the  peculiarly  American  vice  of  rolling  backward 
and  forward  in  a  rocking-chair  ;  the  Colonel  had  one  leg  over 
the  other  and  was  drumming  with  the  opened  blade  of  his 
penknife  on  the  cover  of  the  book  he  held  in  his  hand  ;  and 
Aunt  Martha  was  ruining  what  eyes  she  had  left,  by  some 
kind  of  crochet-work  in  cotton  that  may  possibly  have  been 
a  "tidy." 

Frank  and  the  Colonel  had  come  in  very  nearly  together, 
yet  not  together,  about  half  an  hour  before.  Some  little 
conversation  had  ensued,  but  very  little,  for  the  rivals  in- 
stinctively hated  each  other,  and  Wallace  could  not  manage 
to  string  ten  words  in  his  rival's  presence  without  throwing 


116  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  B  -  S  T  B  A  P  S. 

hits  at  him  in  a  manner  decidedly  improper.  Perhaps  Emily 
had  taken  the  Colonel's  part  a  little,  spite  of  her  aversion  to 
him  ;  and  the  result  was  that  Master  Frank  had  fallen  par- 
tially into  the  sulks  and  gone  off  to  the  end  of  the  room — 
quite  as  for  as  he  intended  to  go  at  that  juncture,  however. 

The  young  man  might  be  pardoned  if  he  felt  for  the  mo- 
ment a  little  vexed.  Though  not  forbidden  the  house  of 
Judge  Owen,  and  treated  with  cold  politeness  when  he  en- 
tered it  (of  course  with  one  exception) — he  knew  very  well 
that  he  was  an  object  of  dislike  to  the  portly  Judge,  and  he 
always  endeavored  so  to  time  his  visits  that  he  might  avoid 
that  parental  potentate.  That  afternoon  he  had  accidentally 
seen  the  Judge  (who  had  anticipated  his  summer  vacation) 
step  on  board  the  Hudson  River  cars,  with  Mrs.  Owen,  for  a 
day  or  two  somewhere  up  the  Hudson ;  and  he  had  very 
naturally  made  his  calculations  upon  a  quiet  evening  with 
Emily.  And  now  to  find  the  Colonel  dividing  the  opportu- 
nity with  him — nay  more,  to  find  Emily  even  siding  a  little 
with  the  valorous  Colonel ! — it  was  too  bad,  was  it  not  ? 

Perhaps  the  young  lover  would  not  have  fallen  into  his 
partial  sulks  quite  so  easily,  had  he  been  aware  that  Col. 
Bancker  had  announced  his  intention  of  being  at  the  house 
in  the  evening  (as  he  had  not),  and  that  Emily  had  begged 
her  aunt  to  come  down  from  her  room  and  sit  with  her  in 
the  parlor,  on  purpose  to  prevent  the  expected  Colonel  hav- 
ing an  opportunity  for  one  word  with  her  in  private.  But 
these  men  are  so  unreasonable  as  well  as  so  blind  !  There  is 
no  satisfying  them,  especially  with  the  amount  of  attention 
shown  them  by  a  woman  whom  they  happen  to  fancv  that 
they  love.  Perhaps  men  do  not  grow  actually  jealous  any  more 
easily  than  women,  but  they  grow  "miffed"  and  "hurt"  a  thou- 
sand times  easier — let  the  fact  be  recorded.  There  is  one  in- 
stance on  legendary  record,  of  a  woman  who  divided  her  hus- 
band with  another,  at  the  time  of  the  chivalrous  adventures  of 
the  Crusaders  ;  but  the  instance  has  not  yet  come  to  light  of 
the  man  who  so  divided  his  icife.  Mormonism  at  the  present 
day  shows  the  pitch  even  of  fanatical  tolerance  to  which  the 
female  mind  can  be  wrought  in  this  direction  ;  while  we  have 
yet  to  look  for  the  corresponding  instance  on  the  other  side, 


SIIOUL  DE  11 -ST  R  A  PS.  117 

in  whieh  the  women  of  a  community  appropriate  to  theni- 
selves  half  a  dozen  or  fifty  husbands  each,  and  the  men  con- 
sent to  the  division. 

This  difference  goes  much  farther  even  than  the  regulation 
(can  such  a  thing  be  regulated  ?)  of  jealousy.  Where  no 
jealousy  exists,  exclusiveness  and  the  sense  of  propriety 
comes  into  the  account — again  on  the  male  side  of  the  cal- 
culation. Jones  and  his  wife  being  both  wall-flowers  at  any 
evening  party,  Mrs.  Jones  did  not  feel  aggrieved,  but  rather 
proud,  at  Mrs.  Thompson's  reunion,  that  Jones  went  off  for 
an  hour  to  pay  the  usual  flirting  attention  to  the  wives  of 
half  a  dozen  of  his  acquaintances ;  while  Jones  colored 
to  the  eyes  and  could  scarcely  be  restrained  from  making  a 
fool  of  himself,  because  Robinson  sat  down  in  the  vacant 
chair  beside  his  wife,  and  tried  to  be  agreeable.  And  when 
the  Emperor  and  Lady  Flora  were  at  Niagara  last  summer, 
it  is  not  upon  record  that  the  lady  made  any  objection  to  the 
gentleman  lingering  an  hour  too  late  upon  Goat  Island  with 
that  blonde-haired  English  girl  who  was  such  an  unmistake- 
able  flirt, — while  the  gentleman  went  on  like  a  madman  on 
the  balcony  of  the  Cataract,  because  Lady  Flora  ran  away 
for  half  an  hour  in  broad  daylight,  to  Prospect  Point,  with 
an  old  friend  of  her  father's,  cefat  fifty  and  incurably  an  in- 
valid. Ah,  well — so  it  has  been  from  the  days  of  the  first 
flirtation  (always  except  that  of  Adam  and  Eve,  when  there 
was  neither  male  nor  female  rival  in  the  neighborhood),  and 
so  it  will  be  to  the  last — with  those  arrogant,  unreasonable, 
unsatisfied  ''lords  of  the  creation." 

A  word  of  description  of  the  two  rivals,  as  yet  unintro- 
duced,  who  on  that  occasion  sunned  themselves  in  the  eyes 
of  Emily  Owen,  though  at  such  different  distances  from  the 
luminary. 

Lt.  Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker  (let  him  have  his  full 
name  once  more,  for  the  honor  of  the  service — be  the  same 
more  or  less  !)  was  a  rather  tall  and  slight  man,  gentlemanly 
in  appearance  and  action,  but  with  an  occasional  dash  of 
swagger  that  somehow  did  not  indicate  courage,  and  the 
undefinable  impression  of  the  "old  beau."  His  face  was 
well-formed,  except  that  the  nose   was  too  large  and  too 


118  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

prominently  aquiline.  He  had  faultlessly  black  side-whiskers 
and  hair  correspondingly  black — too  black,  Frank  Wallace 
said — not  to  have  been  "doctored"  by  Batchelor  or  Crist  a- 
doro,  at  least.  The  dark  eyes  were  a  little  faded,  and  there 
were  crows-feet  at  the  corners  of  the  same  eyes,  for  age  has 
its  own  way  of  telling  its  story,  and  not  all  of  us  who  wish 
to  be  young  can  alter  the  record  in  the  old  family  Bible.  In 
dress  Colonel  Bancker  presented  no  variation  from  the  other 
colonels  of  the  volunteer  service — wearing  the  full  blue  uni- 
form, shoulder-straps  and  belts,  with  the  number  of  his  regiment 
wrought  in  gold  on  the  front  of  a  broad  brimmed  hat  lying 
on  a  book-table  near  him.  Xot  an  ill-looking  man  by  any 
manner  of  means,  in  spite  of  the  violent  antipathy  for  him 
which  Miss  Emily  had  managed  to  transmute  out  of  her 
regard  for  Wallace. 

"Age  before  beauty!"  is  a  motto  somewhat  popular,  so 
the  Colonel  has  had  the  preference.  Frank  Wallace,  pro- 
prietor of  a  small  but  thriving  job-printing  establishment 
before  spoken  of,  and  would-be  proprietor  of  the  heart  and 
hand  of  Miss  Emily  Owen — was  altogether  a  different  style 
of  man  from  the  puissant  Colonel.  As  he  lounged  at  the 
window  in  his  suit  of  loose-fitting  gray  Melton,  he  looked 
very  young  indeed  and  created  rather  the  impression  of  a 
"little  fellow."  He  probably  fell  at  least  three  or  four  inches 
short  of  the  romantic  six  feet,  in  reality  ;  but  was  the  owner 
of  a  fine  erect  and  well-rounded  gymnastic  form,  not  a  little 
improved  by  frequent  visits  to  the  Seventh  Regiment 
Gymnasium.  A  jolly  round  face  with  very  fair  complexion, 
a  merry  blue  eye,  short,  curly  brown  hair  and  a  full  moustache 
somewhat  darker, — made  up  the  ensemble  of  the  particular 
person  destined  to  be  the  torment  of  Judge  Owen — and  of 
others.  For  Frank  Wallace,  be  it  understood,  had  other 
penchants  besides  his  attachment  to  pretty  Emily — fun 
being  the  other  and  leading  propensity.  He  was  a  capital 
mimic,  an  incorrigible  banterer,  and  in  any  other  company 
than  that  of  the  woman  he  loved,  and  her  family,  the  merriest 
and  most  jocular  soul  alive.  Sometimes  when  alone  with 
her,  and  with  the  "spooniness"  which  will  attach  to  male 
courtship  before  twenty-five,  fairly  shaken  off,  he  could  be  a 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  119 

gav,  dashing  and  even  a  presuming  lover.  Just  now  he  was 
unamiable — not  to  say  wicked,  and  ready  for  any  use  of  his 
glib  tongue  which  could  send  the  blue  coat  out  of  the  house 
at  "double-quick." 

It  could  not  have  been  malice — it  certainly  must  have  been 
want  of  thought — that  induced  Aunt  Martha  to  break  the 
temporary  silence  with  the  remark,  addressed  to  the  Colonel : 

"  It  is  a  funny  question  I  am  going  to  ask,  I  know,  Colonel, 
but  I  suppose  I  have  an  old  woman's  privilage.  Mrs.  Owen 
and  myself  were  talking  about  ages  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  she 
thought  you  were  more  than  thirty-five.     How  old  are  you  ?" 

If  half  a  paper  of  pins,  with  all  the  points  upward,  had 
suddenly  made  their  appearance  in  the  bottom  of  the 
Colonel's  chair,  he  probably  could  not  have  been  more  dis- 
comfited. What  reason  he  had  to  be  unquiet,  will  be  more 
apparent  at  a  later  period.  He  fidgetted  a  little  and  hemmed 
more  than  once,  before  he  replied  : 

"  Humph  !  hum  !  Well,  Madame,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
am  a  little  on  the  shady  side  of  extreme  youth — old  enough 
to  be  through  with  my  juvenile  indiscretions — ha  !  ha  !"  (The 
laugh  decidedly  forced  and  feeble).  "I  am  a  little  over 
thirty-two — was  thirty-two  in  March  last." 

"  I  thought  so  !  I  was  sure  you  could  not  be  older  than 
that !"  said  Aunt  Martha,  in  the  most  natural  way  in  the 
world,  while  Emily  took  a  quick  look  round  at  the  Colonel, 
which  said,  much  plainer  than  words  :  "  Oh,  what  a  bouncer  !" 

"  No,  Madame,"  added  the  Colonel,  perhaps  aware  that  fibs 
require  to  be  told  over  at  least  twice  before  they  acquire  the 
weight  of  truths  told  once.  "  No,  Madame,  a  fraction  over 
thirty-two,  as  I  said." 

At  that  moment  the  invisible  influences,  if  they  have  good 
cars,  may  have  heard  Frank  Wallace  getting  up  from  his 
chair,  and  muttering  between  his  teeth  something  very  like  : 

"  Humph  !  well,  I  cannot  stand  this  any  longer  !  If  I  do 
not  succeed  in  making  the  house  too  warm  to  hold  that  re- 
spectable individual,  within  ten  minutes,  I  shall  certainly 
leave  it  myself!"  Just  then  the  words  "  thirty-two,"  from 
the  Colonel's  lips,  met  his  ear,  and  though  he  did  not  catch 
the  context,  so  as  to  know  what  it  was  all  about,  the  spirit 


120  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  II  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 

of  malicious  (and  it  must  be  said,  reckless)  mischief,  prompted 
him  to  lounge  leisurely  forward  and  take  a  share  in  the  con- 
versation, although  uninvited. 

"Ah,  Colonel,  did  I  understand  you  to  say  thirty-two  ?" 

"Yes,  I  said  thirty-two!"  said  the  personage  addressed, 
with  a  stiffness  contrasting  very  forcibly  with  the  suavity  of 
his  speech  to  Aunt  Martha.  Emily,  who,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, knew  Frank  Wallace  better  than  any  other  person  in 
the  house,  at  that  moment  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  face  under 
the  chandelier,  and  saw  that  trouble  was  brewing.  The  sulk 
had  gone,  and  the  badge?*,  a  much  more  dangerous  devil  in 
society,  had  taken  its  place.  Two  antagonistic  acids  were 
certainly  coming  together,  and  an  explosion  was  very  likely 
to  be  the  result.  Yet  what  could  the  poor  girl  do,  except  to 
wait  the  crash  and  be  ready  to  act  as  peacemaker  when  the 
worst  came  to  the  worst  ?  The  one  thing  she  would  have 
liked  to  do,  was  precisely  the  thing  she  dared  not  do  for  her 
life — that  was,  to  spring  up,  catch  her  young  lover  by  the 
arm,  drag  him  out  into  the  garden,  pet  him  a  good  deal  and 
kiss  him  a  very  little,  and  send  him  home  doubtful  whether 
lie  was  walking  on  his  head  or  his  heels — while  her  old  beau 
might  spend  the  whole  evening,  if  he  liked,  with  Aunt 
Martha.  Millie  would  give  her  bright  eyes  to  be  able  to  do 
the  same  thing  with  Tom,  stately  Madame  mere,  when  all 
she  dares  do  in  your  presence  is  to  sit  still,  answer  in  mono- 
syllables, steal  sly  glances  when  you  are  not  looking,  and  be 
generally  dull  and  stupid.  "Would  it  not  be  well  to  let  them 
out  occasionally,  Madame  mere,  for  half  an  hour's  play,  with 
full  consent  and  confidence,  as  they  let  out  the  colts  in  the 
country  ?  Who  knows  but  they  might  behave  the  better  for 
it,  when  out  of  your  sight  altogether  ?  Think  of  it,  Madame 
mere,  and  make  public  the  result  of  your  experiment !  But 
all  this  is  grossly  irrelevant,  and  springs  out  of  the  fact  that 
Emily,  who  wished  to  drag  Frank  Wallace  out  of  the  danger 
of  an  approaching  melee,  had  not  the  power  to  do  so. 

"Indeed  I  always  thought  there  were  thirty-mwe /"  said 
the  young  scamp,  in  the  most  natural  tone  of  surprise  imagi- 
nable, and  in  response  to  the  Colonel's  last  "thirty-two." 

"  Thirty-nine  ivhat,  sir  ?"  asked  the  Colonel,  with  the  same 


BEOULDSR-STBAFS.  121 

sign  of  intense  disgust  upon  his  face  that  we  have  sometimes 
seen  on  Harry  Plaeide's,  when  playing  Sir  Hareourt  Court- 
Icy  and  uttering  the  words:  "Good  gracious!  who  was 
addressing  you  fn 

"Oh,  I  really  beg  pardon,"  replied  the  young  man,  in  a 
tone  which  meant  that  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  "  I  thought 
1  heard  Mrs.  West  and  yourself  speaking  of  the  religious 
aspects  of  the  country,  and  that  you  were  enumerating  the 
articles  of  faith." 

'•  Oh  no,  you  were  quite  mistaken,  Mr.  -Wallace  I"  said 
Aunt  Martha,  very  calmly,  while  Emily  directed  an  appealing 
look  at  the  scapegrace,  which  might  as  well  have  been  a 
putty  pellet  fired  at  the  brown-stone  Washington  in  the 
Park,  for  any  effect  it  produced. 

"  No  sir,  we  were  talking  of  nothing  of  the  kind  !"  said  the 
Colonel,  with  that  kind  of  severe  dignity  intended  to  convey  : 
"Thjs  closes  the  conversation." 

"  Then  of  course  it  is  my  duty  to  beg  pardon  once  more," 
said  the  incorrigible.  "  But  you  might  have  been  talking  on 
that  subject,  you  know,  without  any  impropriety.  The  reli- 
gious aspects  of  the  country  are  deplorable  1"  throwing  up 
his  hands  and  eyes  in  no  bad  imitation  of  Aminadab  Sleek. 
"  Do  you  not  think  so,  Colonel  F" 

"Sir!"  said  the  Colonel,  still  more  severely,  "I  had  not 
been  thinking  of  the  subject  at  all !" 

"Oh  yes,"  the  scapegrace  went  on — "deplorable!  War 
desolating  the  country — all  the  restraints  of  society  removed 
or  weakened — no  Sabbath  at  all — gambling  and  libertinism 
in  the  army  and  infidelity  among  the  officers — Colonel,  I 
really  hope  you  will  excuse  me  !  of  course  I  do  not  mean  to 
make  any  allusion  to  the  present  company — but  I  repeat  that 
the  present  religious  aspects  of  the  country  are  deplorable." 

"  And  /  repeat,  sir,"  spoke  the  Colonel,  with  even  more 
severity  than  before,  while  Aunt  Martha's  face  began  to 
assume  an  expression  that  might  easily  have  deepened  into  a 
smile,  and  Emily  had  serious  trouble  to  keep  from  a  broad 
grin — "/repeat,  sir,  that  we  were  not  speaking  of  the  reli- 
gious aspects  of  the  country  at  all !" 

"  Pshaw!   of  course  not!     How  stupid  I  am!"  said  the 


122  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

tormentor,  who  had  by  this  time  dropped  into  a  chair  a  little 
behind  the  Colonel's  left  shoulder,  where  he  could  literally 
talk  into  his  ear.  **  It  was  the  number  that  deceived  me,  as 
I  heard  it  from  the  window.  I  should  have  known  what 
you  were  saying,  at  once.  You  are  right  in  the  remark  that 
had  we  had  only  thirty-two  States  instead  of  thirty-four,  this 
rebellion  might  never  have  occurred.  Had  South  Carolina, 
writh  its  rampant  Calhounism,  and  Massachusetts  with  its 
anti-slavery  fanaticism,  both  been  left  out  of  the  compact — " 

"/must  beg -pardon,  now,  for  interrupting  you,  Mr.  Wal- 
lace," said  Aunt  Martha,  with  the  calmest  of  voices  and  the 
smile  all  smoothed  away  from  her  face.  "  You  are  mistaken 
again.  We  were  neither  discussing  religious  nor  national 
affairs,  when  you  were  so  kind  as  to  come  down  and  join 
us."  (Emphasis  on  the  word  "  kind,"  which  made  the  young 
man  wince  a  little  and  for  the  moment  predisposed  the  Col- 
onel to  a  chuckle.)     "  Colonel  Baneker  was  saying — " 

"Really,  my  dear  Madame,"  put  in  the  Colonel,  "it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  repeat — " 

"  Oh,  we  have  had  quite  enough  of  misconceptions,"  said 
that  estimable  lady,  with  what  appeared  to  be  another  shot 
at  Wallace.  "  Let  us  have  the  truth  at  last.  I  had  the 
impoliteness  to  ask  Colonel  Baneker  his  age,  and  he  had  the 
courtesy  to  say  that  he  was  just  turned  of  thirty-two." 

"  Pb-ph-ph-ph-ew  !"  came  in  a  long  whistle  from  the  lips 
of  the  tormentor.  The  Colonel  sprung  to  his  feet  in  an 
instant,  and  looked  angrily  around.  Frank  Wallace  was 
quite  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  examining  a  pastel  over 
the  mantel,  and  wiiistling  very  slightly,  but  he  was  certainly 
whistling  the  serenade  from  "Pasquali." 

"  Sir  1"  said  the  Colonel,  rage  in  the  word. 

"  Meaning  me  V  asked  Wallace,  turning  around. 

"Was  that  whistle  intended  for  me,  sir  V  demanded  the 
Colonel,  tragically. 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Wallace.  "  I  was  directing  my 
whistle,  which  is  not  a  good  one,  and  certainly  impolite  in 
company — at  the  cornice.  The  cornice  is  a  handsome  one, 
you  will  notice,  Colonel,  and  I  think  by  Garvey.  Those 
festoons  of  roses — " 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  123 

"  Mr.  Wallace,  you  shall  answer  to  me  for  this  !"  broke  out 
tin-  Colonel,  now  no  longer  master  of  himself. 

"  Gentlemen  !  gentlemen  I"  said  Aunt  Martha,  rising. 
"Don't,  Frank!  for  heaven's  sake  don't  torment  him  any 
more  I"  plead  Emily,  passing  rapidly  before  her  lover  and 
Bpetfkmg  in  a  low  tone.  Whether  he  understood  her  is  a 
question  to  be  settled  between  them  at  some  future  time. 
"  Don't !"  is  a  very  easy  thing  to  say,  when  Niagara  is  pour- 
ing or  a  herd  of  wild  buffaloes  sweeping  down  ;  but  if  the 
imploration  is  addressed  to  either  of  the  moving  bodies,  it 
may  not  win  quick  obedience.  As  the  human  temper  is  a 
combination  of  the  torrent,  the  herd,  and  all  the  other  un- 
manageable things  in  nature  and  beyond,  "Don't!"  even 
from  a  voice  that  we  love,  with  right  and  reason  behind  it,  is 
sometimes  painfully  powerless.  There  is  no  intention,  on 
the  part  of  the  narrator,  of  defending  the  previous  or  subse- 
quent action  of  Mr.  Frank  Wallace  on  this  occasion ;  but 
actual  events  must  be  recorded. 

"Well  sir,  and  what  am  I  to  answer  ?"  asked  the  young 
man,  without  a  quiver  in  his  voice,  but  with  much  more 
earnest  in  it  than  it  had  before  manifested. 

"You   made   an   offensive   comment   on  my  veracity,  by 
whistling,  a  moment  ago." 
11  And  what  then,  sir  ?" 

"  That  offensive  comment  shows  that  you  doubt  my  vera- 
city !" 

"  Gentlemen  !  gentlemen  !" again  spoke  Aunt  Martha;  and 
poor  Emily,  now  half  frightened  out  of  her  wits,  made  one 
more  attempt  at  imploring  her  lover  to  be  quiet.  This  done, 
and  both  now  aware  that  the  tide,  on  one  side  at  least,  had 
overflowed  the  bounds  of  all  prudence,  they  desisted,  stepped 
back  from  between  the  rivals,  and  allowed  the  quarrel  to 
take  its  own  course. 

"  And  suppose  I  do  doubt  your  veracity  !"  answered  Wal- 
lace to  the  last  remark  of  the  Colonel.  "You  call  yourself 
thirty-two  !  Bah  !  you  are  fifty,  if  you  are  ten  !"  The  ob- 
vious rage  on  the  countenance  of  the  Colonel  did  not  stop  the 
torrent,  now,  nor  even  check  it !  "  Such  fine  crows'-feet  under 
the  eyes,  as  those  of  yours,  never  come  much  before  fifty, 


124:  SHOULDER-STKAPS. 

except  in  case  of  a  nice  round  of  brandy-smashes,  late  hours 
and  general  dissipation,  or — " 

''Well,  sir,  what  is  the  orV  broke  out  the  Colonel,  still 
more  furious. 

"A  severe  course  of  early  piety  !"  concluded  the  young 
man,  throwing  a  terrible  sting  into  the  tail  of  his  sentence,  not 
less  by  the  manner  than  the  voice. 

"  You  should  answer  for  this,  Mr.  Wallace,  as  you  call 
yourself,"  foamed  the  Colonel — "  but — " 

"But  ivhat,  Lieut.  Colonel  Bancker — as  you  try  to  call 
yourself?"  thundered  the  young  man,  in  reply. 

"  Oh,  gentlemen  !  gentlemen  !  do  stop,  for  the  sake  of  the 
house!"  imploringly  put  in  Aunt  Martha  at  this  period; 
while  Emily,  seriously  frightened,  indulged  in  a  few  tears  that 
were  no  doubt  set  down  to  the  account  of  her  brute  of  a 
lover,  by  the  over-watching  intelligences.  But  the  quarrel 
ceased  not,  even  yet,  at  the  bidding  of  either;  and,  marvel- 
lous to  relate,  though  the  front  windows  were  open  and  they 
were  speaking  in  a  tone  altogether  too  loud  for  the  amenities 
of  society,  a  crowd  had  not  gathered  around  the  area  railing 
in  front. 

"  But  what  V  demanded  the  younger  combatant. 

"But  that  my  sword,  sir — "  began  the  elder. 

11  Oh,  you  have  a  sword,  then  !"  sneered  Wallace.  u  I 
thought  it  was  all  belts  /" 

"  I  would  chastise  you  for  this,  sir,  severely,"  said  the 
officer,  "but  that  my  sword  is  sacred  to  the  cause  of  tho 
Union.     When  with  my  regiment,  sir — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  again  interrupted  Wallace,  who  had  his 
own  reasons  for  believing  that  the  Colonel's  regiment  was 
altogether  a  myth,  as  so  many  others  have  been — "  Yes,  I 
know — the  Eleven  hundred  and  fifty-fifth  Coney  Island  Thim- 
ble-rig Zouaves  !" 

Human  patience  could  stand  this  no  longer.  With  one  dash 
for  his  hat  and  a  surly  "  Good  night,  ladies  !"  coupled  with 
an  intimation  to  Wallace  :  "You  shall  hear  from  me,  sir  !" 
Lt.  Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker  (let  him  once  more  have 
the  full  benefit  of  the  name  !)  stiDde  out  of  the  parlor  into  the 
hall,  and  was  about  to»  vanish  from  the   field.     But  as  he 


.s  II O  U  L  D  £ B-S  T  R  A  P  S.  125 

passed  into  the  hull  the  hand  of  Aunt  Martha  was  laid  upon 
his  arm,  and  her  voice — so  much  plcasanter  than  that  of  the 
tormentor — sounded  in  his  ear.  The  good  aunt,  whatever 
might  have  been  her  wish  to  rid  her  niece  of  a  match  so  re- 
pugnant, certainly  did  not  wish  to  produce  the  riddance  in 
this  manner  and  to  send  the  Colonel  out  of  the  house  under 
a  sensation  of  outrage  which  could  not  fail  to  come  to  the 
ears  of  her  "  big  brother."  So  she  passed  into  the  hall  with 
the  Colonel,  leaving  the  young  people  behind  her, — and 
managed  to  detain  the  enraged  man  in  the  hall  and  on  the 
piazza  for  several  minutes.  It  was  not  the  first  time,  beyond 
doubt,  that  she  had  made  peace  for  others,  however  she  might 
have  martyred  her  own. 

"  Oh,  Frank  !  what  have  you  done  I"  exclaimed  the  young 
girl,  the  moment  they  had  passed  out  into  the  hall,  her  eyes 
yet  dim  with  the  tears  of  anxiety  she  had  been  shedding  ;  but 
in  spite  of  her  fear  and  even  her  mortification,  laying  her  hand 
in  that  of  the  reckless  young  scapegrace  whom  she  truly 
loved.  "  Father  will  hear  of  this — we  shall  be  separated 
altogether  !"  And  again  she  repeated  the  expostulation  of 
all  dairy-maids  to  all  cats  or  children  that  have  upset  pans 
of  milk — "  What  have  you  done  !" 

°  What  have  I  done  1"  echoed  the  culprit,  "Why  merely 
roasted  a  cowardly  humbug  who  deserves  nothing  better,  and 
who  has  not  spunk  enough  to  resent  it — that  is  all !" 

M  But  besides  my  father's  anger — I  am  afraid  he  may, 
Frank,"  said  the  young  girl,  looking  into  her  lover's  face  with 
real  anxiety. 

"  I  only  wish  he  would  !"  was  the  reply. 

"  Why,  you  do  not  mean  to  say  that  you  would  fight  him  TH 

"With  the  sword,  if  he  has  one — no!"  he  said.  "Not 
with  anything  more  dangerous  than  a  piece  of  rattan.  I 
would  not  mind  polishing  off  his  dainty  hide  with  that!  Be- 
sides, if  I  quarrelled  with  him,  who  made  me?  You  1  lie 
sat  too  near  you,  and  you  not  only  talked  with  him  but  looked 
at  him.     What  business  had  you  to  look  at  him  ?     Eh  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  cruel  fellow  !"  said  the  young  girl,  not  disposed 
to  Bcold  more  sharply,  even  at  folly,  when  it  had  such  a  sedi- 
ment of  true  love  lying  beneath  the  froth. 


126  S  II  OULDEK-S  TRAPS 

"  Oh,  you  handsome  torment !"  was  the  reply  of  the  lover, 
as  he  took  that  one  auspicious  moment  to  enfold  the  young 
girl  in  his  arms  and  give  her  half  a  dozen  warm,  close,  vo- 
luptuous kisses  full  on  the  lips — such  kisses  as  people  should 
never  indulge  in  who  do  not  know  exactly  the  haven  toward 
which  they  are  sailing. 

"  What  are  you  doing  now,  impudence  !"  uttered  the 
thoroughly-kissed  girl,  making  just  so  much  resistance  as 
seemed  becoming,  and  yet  meeting  her  lover  nearly  enough 
half-way  to  make  the  exercise  rather  exhilarating. 

"  What  am  I  doing  ?  '  Locking  up'  a  'form' — you  know  I 
am  a  printer !"  said  the  young  man,  taking  yet  another 
"  proof"  of  affection.  But  here  the  alarmed  reader  will  be 
spared  the  succession  of  bad  puns,  peculiar  to  the  printing- 
office,  with  which  this  specimen  was  followed,  and  which  has 
probably  been  to  some  extent  indulged  in  by  every  disciple 
of  Faust  more  or  less  in  love,  since  Adam  worked  oil'  the 
first  proof  of  his  breakfast  bill-of-fare,  on  the  original  hand- 
press,  in  one  corner  of  the  Garden  of  Eden. 

The  young  man  was  yet  standing  with  his  arm  around  the 
waist  of  Emily,  just  within  the  door  leading  from  the  parlor 
into  the  hall,  and  yet  other  farewell  kisses  and  reproaches 
might  have  been  on  the  possible  programme, — when  both 
were  startled  by  a  sharp  scream  from  Aunt  Martha,  who  was 
yet  standing  on  the  piazza  with  the  Colonel  near  her. 

"  Ough-ough-oh  !"  » 

Wallace  and  Emily  at  once  rushed  to  the  front  door,  under 
the  belief  that  some  sudden  accident  had  befallen  the  lady ; 
but  at  that  moment  there  was  a  loud  crash,  followed  by  other 
voices  screaming  ;  and  in  the  street,  almost  in  front  of  the 
door,  a  painful  and  threatening  spectacle  presented  itself. 

As  afterwards  appeared,  when  the  various  parties  became 
sufficiently  collected  to  ascertain  what  had  really  happened — 
a  carriage  had  been  coming  along  the  street  from  the  left, 
driven  rapidly,  but  with  the  pair  of  fine  horses  under  good 
command.  Just  before  it  reached  the  house  of  Judge  Owen, 
one  of  those  troublesome  boys  who  ought  all  to  be  sent  to 
Blackweirs  Island  from  the  twenty-fifth  of  June  until  the 
tenth  of  July,  had  thrown  a  lighted  "snake,"  or  "chaser," 


SnOULDER-S  TRAPS.  12* 

under  the  belly  of  the  near  horse  as  he  passed.  The  animals 
had  already  become  sufficiently  frightened  by  the  fire-crackers 
thrown  under  them  and  the  pistols  exploding  at  their  ears ; 
and  at  this  crowning  atrocity  they  became  altogether  un- 
manageable. Spite  of  the  exertions  of  the  practised  driver, 
they  shied  violently  to  the  left,  breaking  into  a  run  at  the 
same  moment,  and  the  next  instant  one  side  of  the  carriage 
was  whirled  upon  the  curb,  so  that  the  hind  axle  and  wheel 
caught  in  the  lamp-post,  happily  not  tearing  apart  or  over- 
turning the  vehicle,  but  bringing-up  with  such  a  shock  that 
the  driver  was  hurled  from  his  seat  and  thrown  to  the  pave- 
ment between  the  maddened  horses. 

This  state  of  affairs  had  drawn  the  scream  from  Aunt 
Martha,  and  at  the  instant  when  Wallace  reached  the  door 
the  people  in  the  carriage  were  screaming  but  incapable  of 
getting  out,  the  horses  were  plunging  to  such  a  degree  that 
they  must  have  broken  loose  in  a  moment,  after  making  a 
wreck  of  the  carriage  and  trampling  to  death  the  poor  fellow 
who  lay  senseless  under  their  feet.  At  the  same  time  it 
seemed  worth  a  dozen  lives  to  plunge  into  that  storm  of 
lashing  hoofs  and  do  anything  to  rescue  driver  and  riders 
from  their  peril. 

"  Help  !  help  !  oh,  save  them  ! — save  the  poor  man — some- 
body P*  cried  both  the  women  on  the  piazza,  at  a  breath ;  and 
"  Help  !  help  !"  rung  in  a  woman's  voice  from  the  inside  of 
the  carriage.  Fifteen  or  twenty  persons  had  already  rushed 
up,  but  no  one  seemed  disposed  to  risk  his. own  life  to  save 
others.  The  Colonel  yet  stood  on  one  of  the  steps  of  the 
piazza,  apparently  spell-bound. 

"  Colonel  Bancker,  you  wanted  to  try  courage  with  me  a 
little  while  ago  :  take  hold  of  those  horses,  if  you  dare  /"  cried 
Frank  Wallace,  rushing  to  the  edge  of  the  stoop.  The 
Colonel  neither  spoke  nor  stirred.  "  Coward  !"  they  heard 
the  young  man  cry,  and  the  next  instant — how,  none  of  them 
knew — he  had  rushed  in  upon  the  horses'  heads,  spite  of 
their  lashing  hoofs,  had  one  or  both  by  the  bridles,  and  in 
an  instant  more  both  horses  were  flung  prostrate  and  help- 
less. The  imminent  danger  over,  some  of  the  bystanders 
rushed  in  to  assist,  the  horses  were  more  firmly  secured,  and 


128  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  poor  driver  was  dragged  out,  bloody  and  half  insensible, 
but  not  seriously  injured.  One  ready  and  daring  hand  had 
.prevented  the  certain  loss  of  one  life,  and  the  probable  loss 
of  more.  Fire-crackers,  pistols  and  other  abominations  had 
vanished  from  the  street  as  if  by  magic  ;  the  noise  over,  the 
horses  came  again  under  command  ;  they  were  raised,  and 
horses,  harness  and  carriage  all  found  comparatively  unin- 
jured;  the  disabled  driver  was  taken  to  a  neighboring  drug- 
store; one  of  the  b}'standers  volunteered  to  drive  the  carriage 
to  its  destination,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  box ;  the  owner 
droned  out  his  thanks  from  the  inside  of  the  carriage,  in  a 
fat,  wheezy  voice,  mingled  with  the  sobs  of  a  woman  in 
partial  hysterics ;  and  the  equipage  rolled  away  almost  as 
suddenly  as  it  had  come — perhaps  not  five  minutes  having 
been  consumed  in  the  whole  affair. 

Short  as  was  the  time  occupied,  the  Colonel  had  disap- 
peared. When  the  trouble  was  over  he  was  no  longer  stand- 
ing on  the  piazza.  Frank  Wallace  had  apparently  been  once 
beaten  down,  and  had  some  soiled  spots  on  his  Melton,  and 
a  few  bruises,  but  he  had  received  no  injury  of  any  conse- 
quence. For  what  violent  and  even  dangerous  exertion  he 
had  undergone,  he  was  unquestionably  more  than  repaid 
when  Aunt  Martha  caught  him  by  one  hand  and  said 
fervently,  "  God  bless  you  !"  and  when  Emily  Owen  took  the 
other  hand  with  a  warmer  and  fonder  pressure  than  she  had 
ever  given  it  before,  and  said — so  low  that  probably  not  even 
Aunt  Martha  heard  her :  "  Good — brave — generous  Frank ! — 
I  won't  scold  you  again  in  a  twelvemonth  !" 

All  that  Frank  Wallace  replied  to  both  these  generous 
outbursts,  was  comprised  in  a  snap  of  his  fingers  in  the 
direction  supposed  to  have  been  taken  by  the  Colonel,  and 
the  words  : 

"  Bah !  I  told  you  that  man  was  a  coward  and  wouldn't 
fight !  If  he  had  not  pluck  enough  to  risk  the  feet  of  those 
two  horses,  what  would  he  do  in  the  face  of  a  charge  of  rebel 
cavalry  !" 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  129 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  First  Week  of  July — A  Chapter  that  should  only* 

BE  READ  BY  THOSE  WHO  TlIINK THE  DESPAIR  OF  THE  SEVEN 

D ays  Battles — Shoulder-straps  and  Stay-at-Home  Sol- 
diers— An  Incident  of  the  Second. 

The  first  week  of  July,  eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-two. 
What  a  time  it  was  ! — and  who  that  took  part  in  it,  in  any 
portion  of  the  loyal  States  to  which  the  telegraph  and  the 
newspaper  had  reached,  can  ever  forget  it  ?  Everything  was 
hopeless,  blank  despair — dull,  dead  desolation.  Not  even 
the  fatal  Monday  following  the  defeat  of  Bull  Bun,  when  we 
believed  that  all  our  New  York  troops  had  been  cut  to  pieces 
or  fled  ingloriously,  produced  the  same  total  discouragement 
in  the  great  city.  Bull  Run  was  our  first  signal  reverse — 
the  first  blow  from  the  rod  of  national  chastisement,  that  was 
afterwards  to  cut  so  deeply.  Though  that  stroke  pained,  it 
also  fired  ahd  awakened  ;  and  repeated  blows  had  not  yet 
produced  that  weakness  aud  exhaustion  so  difficult  to  arouse 
to  any  further  effort.  And  we  had  not,  at  the  same  time, 
passed  through  the  repeated  disasters  of  the  few  months 
following,  which  stunned  and  hardened  while  they  pained. 
We  were  quite  unprepared  for  the  disaster,  coming  as  it  did 
after  several  months  of  continued  comparative  victory  (the 
Austerlitz,  Jena  and  Friedland  period  of  the  Lincoln  Empire, 
if  it  has  had  one)  ;  and  the  country  felt  it  most  keenly. 

The  heart  of  the  nation  had  been  bound  up  in  McClellan. 
The  confidence  and  love  reposed  in  him  may  have  been  man- 
worship,  without  ground  or  reason,  but  it  was  no  less  real  and 
positive.  While  in  the  Command-in  Chief,  everything  had  gone 
well,  and  the  Butler  and  Burnside  expeditions,  the  two  great 
successes  of  the  war,  had  been  planned  %nd  executed.  On 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  the  people  had  looked  as  the 
bulwark  of  the  country — the  central  force  that  should  in  g'ood 
time  take  Richmond  and  give  the  last  blow  to  the  rebellion. 
The  miserable  bickering  and  paltry  fears  which  had  detached 
McDowell's  division  from  the  grand  army,  to  defend  Wash- 


VoO  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

ington  when  never  threatened,  had  been  comparatively  un- 
known or  little  understood.  Many  and  disastrous  months 
were  yet  to  elapse,  before  the  letters  of  the  Orleans  Princc3 
could  tear  away  the  curtain  of  mystery  and  show  the  official 
action  in  its  naked  deformity  of  malice  and  misjudgment 
McClellan  had  left  Manassas  with  a  gallant  army  of  immense 
force,  whose  numbers  had  no  doubt  been  all  the  while  esafp 
gerated  to  the  popular  ear.  They  had  proved  themselves 
soldiers  and  heroes,  and  had  won  whenever  and  wherever 
brought  to  the  test.  The  young  commander  had  had  the 
Command-in-Chief  taken  from  him,  at  the  moment  when  he 
first  moved  forward  ;  but  it  was  believed  that  the  change  had 
been  made  with  his  consent  if  not  at  his  own  request,  so  that 
he  might  be  the  more  unhampered  in  the  field.  We  did  not 
know  the  chain  which  had  been  cruelly  locked  around  his 
strong  limbs,  and  which  he  had  been  dragging  through  every 
mile  of  that  long  march.  He  had  complained,  it  is  true,  from 
Williamsburgh,  of  the  insufficiency  of  his  force  for  the  great 
end  in  view ;  but  he  was  known  to  be  a  cautious  man,  and 
when  he  had  won  Williamsburgh,  forced  the  evacuation  of 
Yorktown  and  afterwards  won  Fair  Oaks,  all  fears  for  him 
and  for  the  army  had  been  gradually  dismissed. 

He  had  been  set  down  to  win — to  take  Richmond  :  that 
had  formed  the  great  culmination  of  the  programme — the 
red  fire  and  flourish  of  trumpets  on  which  the  curtain  of  the 
rebellion  was  to  go  down.  If  any  one  had  spoken  dis- 
approvingly or  doubtfully  of  his  long  delay  in  the  swamps 
of  the  Chickahominy,  the  reply  had  been  :  "  Wait  patiently  1 
McClellan  is  slow,  but  sure.  He  will  take  Richmond  before 
he  ends  the  campaign,  and  that  is  enough  !"  Such  had  been 
public  confidence — the  confidence  of  a  public  who  perhaps 
did  not  know  the  General,  but  who  certainly  did  not  know 
the  government  directing  and  overruling  his  every  action. 
At  last  even  the  tnne  of  the  great  capture  had  been  fixed. 
Officers  leaving  on  short  furlough  had  been  admonished  to 
return  quickly,  "  if  they  expected  to  take  part  in  the  capture 
of  Richmond."  What  else  could  this  mean,  than  confidence 
on  the  part  of  the  commanding  general,  that  the  approaches 
to  the  rebel  capital  had  been  made  sufficiently  close  to  ensure 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  131 

its  capture,  and  that  the  prize  was  at  length  in  his  grasp  ? 
Then  the  Fourth  of  July  had  been  seized  upon  as  the  aus- 
picious period,  and  the  whole  country  had  grown  ready  to 
celebrate  the  National  Anniversary  in  the  loyal  cities,  simul- 
taneously with  the  shouts  and  bonfires  of  the  Union  Army 
that  should  then  be  treading  the  streets  of  the  conquered 
capital  and  opening  the  prison-doors  of  the  loyal  men  who 
had  been  suffering  and  starving  in  the  tobacco-warehouses. 

Such  had  been  the  supposed  aspect  of  affairs  in  the  field, 
up  to  the  last  week  of  June,  and  young  orators  preparing 
their  Fourth  of  July  orations  had  introduced  rounded  periods 
referring  to  the  added  glory  of  the  day  and  the  new  laurels 
wreathing  the  brows  of  the  Union  commanders.  Those  who 
contemplated  speaking  on  the  great  day,  and  had  not  made 
any  allusion  to  the  fall  of  Richmond  in  their  prepared  ora- 
tions, had  already  seen  cause  to  repent  the  omission.  One, 
who  had  incautiously  mentioned  in  a  city  passenger-car  that 
"  he  hoped  Richmond  would  not  be  taken  until  after  the 
Fourth,"  and  who  had  lacked  time  to  give  as  a  reason  that 
11  if  it  should  be  taken  before,  he  would  be  obliged  to  write 
his  oration  all  over  again" — had  been  assaulted  for  the  offen- 
sive expression,  and  only  escaped  after  a  hard  fight,  with 
a  black  eye  and  a  sense  of  damaged  personal  dignity.  It  had 
been  settled  that  Richmond  was  to  be  in  possession  of  the 
Union  troops  on  the  Fourth — wo  to  him  who  doubted  it ! 

Hark  !  was  there  muttering  thunder  in  the  heavens  ? — 
thunder  from  a  sky  hitherto  all  bright  blue  ?  Business  men, 
going  down  town  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-eighth  of 
June,  found  that  "  fighting  had  commenced  before  Richmond," 
and  that "  McClellan  was  changing  his  front."  That  "  change 
of  front"  looked  ominous.  A  few  read  the  secret  at  once — 
that  heavy  reinforcements  had  come  into  Richmond  from  the 
half-disbanded  rebel  army  Hallcck  had  checked  but  not 
defeated  at  Corinth;  a^id  coupled  with  strange  rumors  of 
this  came  hints  about  "  Stonewall  Jackson,"  which  indicated 
to  the  same  persons  that  that  rebel  officer  had  advanced  from 
the  North-west  and  made  an  attempt  to  take  McClellan's 
right  wing  in  flank,  necessitating  a  retrograde  movement  of 
iliat  wing  to  bring  him  in  front.     Still,  confidence  was  not 


132  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

lost,  in  McClellan  or  in  the  army.  While  his  right  wing  fell 
back  before  an  attack  in  force,  his  left  might  swing  in  towards 
Richmond  and  even  take  the  city — who  could  say  ? 

Then  the  telegraph  closed  down,  and  the  morning  papers 
contained  "no  later  intelligence"  from  the  field  before  Rich- 
mond. This  was  "  the  feather  that  broke  the  camel's  back" 
of  the  national  spirit.  The  government  had  no  confidence  in 
the  people — it  dared  not  trust  them  with  the  truth — it  dared 
conceal  !  Our  army  was  being  cut  to  pieces,  and  we  were 
permitted  to  know  nothing  of  the  calamity  except  the  dread- 
ful fact  No  development  could  have  been  so  injurious  as 
this  concealment — no  stroke  at  the  national  confidence  so 
deadly  as  the  want  of  reliance  shown  by  the  government 
censors.  The  nation's  heart  went  down  beneath  the  blow: 
to  this  day*  it  has  never  risen  to  the  same  proud  and  cou- 
rageous determination  shown  through  all  previous  disasters. 

It  is  said  to  be  a  terrible  spectacle  when  a  strong  man 
weeps — a  thousand  times  more  terrible  than  the  grief  of  the 
softer  sex  and  the  gentler  nature,  because  it  is  evident  what 
must  have  been  the  blow  inflicted  and  what  the  struggle 
before  the  pent  waters  burst  forth.  But  even  the  strong 
man's  grief  is  tame  compared  to  the  spectacle  of  the  grief  of 
a  nation — that  aggregation  of  strong  men  and  of  vital  inter- 
ests. When  the  very  sky  seems  dimmed  and  the  bright  sun- 
shine a  mockery.  When  the  foot  falls  without  energy  and 
the  voice  breaks  forth  without  emphasis.  When  men,  who 
meet  on  the  corners  of  streets,  clasp  hands  in  silence  or  only 
speak  in  low  and  broken  words.  When  the  silver  moonlight 
seems  to  be  shining  upon  nothing  else  than  new-made  graves. 
When  the  sound  of  revelry  from  ball-rooms  jars  upon  the 
heart  until  it  creates  deadly  sickness  ;  and  the  glare  of  lights 
from  places  of  public  amusement  seems  to  be  an  indecorum 
like  a  waltz  at  a  funeral.  When  a  uniform  in  the  street  is  a 
reproach  and  a  horror  ;  and  the  music  of  the  band  to  which 
soldiers  tramp,  sounds  like  nothing  but  the  "  Dead  March  in 
Saul."  When  business  is  impossible,  and  idleness  an  agony. 
When  the  old  flag  is  looked   up  to  without  pride,  and  the 

*  January,  1SG3. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  133 

very  pulses  of  patriotism  seem  dead  because  they  have  no 
hope  to  keep  them  in  motion.  When  all  is  darkness — all 
discouragement — all  shame — all  despair.  These  are  the  tears 
of  a  broad  land — this  is  the  spectacle  we  witness  when  a 
nation  weeps.  The  loyal  men  of  this  generation  have  wept 
more  bitterly  and  sorely,  within  the  past  two  years,  than 
those  wept  who  saw  the  armies  of  the  Revolution  starved 
and  outnumbered — who  pined  in  the  Prison-Ships  and 
trucked  the  bloody  snow  at  V alley  Forge.  God  forgive 
those  who  have  wrung  these  tears — whatever  the  ultraism 
they  may  represent !  The  people  they  have  outraged  will 
not  forgive  until  a  terrible  vengeance  is  taken. 

The  first  days  of  July,  when  fell  the  President's  fifth  pro- 
clamation, calling  for  "three  hundred  thousand  more."  If 
ever  a  cry  of  despair  burst  out  from  an  overcharged  heart,  it 
went  up  to  heaven  from  the  whole  land  at  that  moment. 
"  Have  I  yet  more  to  give  ?"  cried  the  depopulated  city  and 
the  desolated  village.  "  Have  I  yet  more  to  give  ?"  cried 
the  father  with  one  son  remaiuing  of  his  six  brave  boys ; 
"  Have  I  yet  more  to  give  V  echoed  the  widow  whose  last 
stay  was  to  be  taken  from  her;  and  "Have  I  yet  more  to 
give  ?"  re-echoed  the  wife  as  she  buckled  the  sword  or  the 
bayonet-sheath  on  the  side  of  her  husband  and  sent  him  forth 
as  one  more  sacrifice  to  the  insatiate  demons  of  Ambition  and 
Mismanagement,  Have  not  the  days  following  Manassas, 
and  the  Seven  Days  before  Richmond,  and  Fredericksburgh, 
been  hours  in  a  national  Gethsemane  ?  And  has  not  the 
liana  been  almost  excusable,  lifted  in  the  prayer  :  "  Father 
of  Nations  ! — if  it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  us  1" 
And  yet  the  cup  has  not  passed — we  have  been  draining  it 
to  the  very  dregs  ! 

The  introduction  of  this  chapter,  which  does  not  in  the 
least  advance  the  action  of  the  story,  would  be  altogether 
inexcusable,  did  not  every  artist  have  a  habit  of  painting  a 
background  for  his  historical  composition,  instead  of  throwing 
the  figures  on  the  naked  canvas  and  thereby  losing  half  his 
little  chance  of  illusion.  The  characters  here  introduced  may 
live  and  move,  but  relieved  against  what  ?  The  background 
of  current  events,  certainly — without  a  knowledge  of  which 


13-i  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

their  actions  might  be  altogether  unaccountable.  And  gen- 
eral as  may  be  a  feeling  to-day,  it  must  be  caught  and  put 
upon  record  to-morrow,  or  the  very  persons  who  held  it  most 
deeply  will  forget  it  by  the  third  day.  Ten  years  hence — 
perhaps  a  year  hence — the  bitter  humiliation  through  which 
the  country  has  been  passing  between  the  opening  of  1861 
and  the  opening  of  1863,  will  be  almost  entirely  forgotten  in 
after  glory  or  after  shame.  A  few  will  remember,  but  faintly 
and  dimly,  as  the  old  veterans  of  the  Revolution  remembered 
in  their  tottering  a£e  the  conflicts  through  which  they  had 
passed  in  youth,  beside  Washington  or  with  Mad  Anthony. 
A  few  will  remember  something  of  the  truth,  but  only  as 
veteran  play-goers  remember  a  performance  at  the  Old  Park 
in  its  palmy  days — a  Cooper  or  a  Power  prominent,  but  all 
the  other  actors  lost  in  the  mists  of  time. 

When  Thomas  Wilson  left  the  field  of  Brandywine,  after 
that  disastrous  defeat,  and  with  a  bullet-hole  through  his 
neck,  narrowly  missing  the  jugular,  which  had  been  received 
in  aiding  to  rescue  and  bear  off  the  wounded  Lafayette, — 
that  battle-scene  was  so  imprinted  on  his  mind  that  he  be- 
lieved he  could  ever  afterwards,  to  his  dying  day,  recall  the 
position  of  every  squadron,  and  even  the  place  of  every  rock 
and  tree  beside  which  he  had  fought ;  and  yet  when  he  saw 
him,  more  than  half  a  century  afterwards,  hobbling  along  on 
his  stout  hickory  cane  to  the  place  where  he  was  to  draw 
the  scant  pittance  afforded  him  by  a  nation  grudging  in  its 
gratitude — he  remembered  Lafayette  and  that  he  was  wounded 
in  helping  to  bear  him  off — nothing  more.  Xo  doubt  John 
Wilson,  grandson  of  the  old  man,  wounded  in  the  assault  at 
Fredericksburgh,  came  away  from  that  murderous  field  with 
the  same  impression  of  the  eternity  of  his  own  memory ;  but 
he  will  forget  all  except  the  very  event  of  the  action,  like  his 
grandsire.  And  yesterday  evening,  coming  out  from  among 
the  plaudits  of  the  crowd  that  had  been  paying  honor  to 
the  wonderful  renderings  of  Couldock  and  Davidge  in  the 
"  Chimney-Corner,"  Wetmore,  the  critic  and  habitue,  did  not 
even  bring  away  a  play-bill.  That  little  domestic  scene  was 
so  daguerreotyped  upon  his  memory  that  he  should  never 
forget  one  detail  of  cast  or  incident — never !     And  yet  five 


SHOU  LDE  R-STKAP  S.  135 

years  hence,  Wetmore  will  turn  to  some  companion  of  the 
present  and  say:  "Ah,  confound  it — I  cannot  remember! 
"Who  was  it  that  played  with  Couldock  at  the  Winter  Garden, 
in  the — the — there,  hang  me  if  I  have  not  even  forgotten  the 
name  of  the  piece  ! — that  capital  little  llobson  domestic 
drama — the — the — the  '  Chimney  Corner'  ?  " 

So  much  by  way  of  explanation,  if  not  of  apology,  for 
patching  the  colors  of  the  background  of  general  feeling  at 
Uie  particular  period  of  this  story,  before  they  have  time  to 
fade.  And  yet  a  few  more  words  with  reference  to  that  gene- 
ral feeling,  as  it  took  particular  directions. 

"  Vox  populi,  vox  Dei  "  is  a  motto  so  often  falsified,  at  least 
in  appearance,  that  the  world  has  come  to  place  but  little  re- 
liance upon  it ;  and  yet  it  is  as  true  to-day  as  when  the  old 
Latin  maximist  first  penned  it,  with  the  plurality  of  the  gods 
of  his  dependence  fully  manifest  in  the  original  "  Dii "  or 
"Deis."  The  people  do  not  often  err  materially  or  long. 
They  may  throne  a  wooden  god  or  a  baboon  for  a  short  mo- 
ment, but  that  moment  soon  passes.  As  a  political  body  no 
demagogue  with  words  supplying  the  place  of  brains,  can 
long  override  them ;  and  as  an  arrny  they  never  make  a  fa- 
vorite of  a  fool  or  a  coward.  The  American  people  did  not 
err  for  a  moment  as  to  where  the  responsibility  of  the  sad 
check  to  the  army  of  the  Potomac  did  not  belong ;  and  they 
erred  but  little  in  their  calculation  of  where  it  did.  The 
army  was  brave — its  leader  was  both  careful  and  capable — 
the  very  man  for  the  place :  that  they  knew  intuitively.  They 
doubted  the  existence  of  brains  at  Washington,  and  of  loyaltv 
in  many  of  those  who  had  been  urging  "forward  movements" 
without  sufficient  force  or  proper  preparation  ;  and  they  have 
already  been  fully  justified  in  the  doubt. 

But  the  people  saw  something  more — execrated  it,  howled 
against  it,  spat  upon  it;  and  after  the  Seven  Days  before 
Richmond,  their  abhorrence  culminated.  That  terrible  some- 
thing was  absenteeism.  Thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
who  should  have  been  in  their  places  in  the  army,  were 
shamelessly  absent  when  their  brothers-in-arms  were  being 
sacrificed  from  their  very  want  of  numbers.  Wounded  sol- 
diers who  had  come  home  on  furlough,  and  afterwards  re- 


136  SHOULDER-STRAPS 

covered,  had  never  rejoined  their  commands;  and  in  spite  of 
the  calls  of  McClellan  no  steps  had  boon  taken  to  force  them 
back  into  the  ranks.  The  Provost  Marshals  were  too  busy 
looking  for  summer-boarders  at  Fort  Lafayette  and  Fort  War- 
ren, to  think  of  their  obvious  duty  of  protecting  the  armies 
of  the  Union  against  indolence  and  desertion  !  A  still  more 
serious  defection  existed  among  the  officers — those  who 
had  been  awhile  in  the  service,  and  those  who  had  merely 
entered  it  in  pretence.  Half  the  New  York  regiments, 
especially,  had  originally  been  officered  by  men  who  had  no 
intention  of  lighting,  and  who  merely  took  commissions  and 
spent  a  few  weeks  in  camp  or  in  the  field  of  inactive  opera- 
tions, in  order  that  they  might  have  "Colonel,"  "Major,"  or 

Captain"  attached  to  their  names,  and  be  ready  to  make 
more  successful  plunges  into  the  flesh-pots  of  well-paid  offices, 
on  the  plea  that  they  had  been  "patriots"  and  "served  the 
country "  in  its  need.  Hundreds  had  come  home,  leaving 
their  commands  half-officered,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  and 
their  leaves-of-absence  obtained  by  more  or  less  of  political 
influence  or  favoritism.  They  never  intended  to  go  back  ;  for 
were  not  the  elections  coming  within  a  few  months  ?  and  was 
it  not  necessary  to  plough  the  political  field  with  those  very 
harmless  swords  in  order  to  raise  a  fall  crop  of  offices  ? 

Then  the  other  class — those  who  had  never  intended  to  go 
at  all — those  who  had  no  heart  in  the  cause,  from  the  first, 
and  who  had  merely  assumed  the  regulation  uniform  to  feed 
vanity  or  the  pocket.  The  former,  to  strut  Broadway  in  un- 
impeachable blue-and-gold,  be  called  by  military  titles,  lounge 
at  the  theatres  or  create  sensations  at  the  watering-places, 
confident  of  being  able  to  escape,  on  some  pretext,  before  their 
commands  (if  they  had  any)  should  leave  for  the  seat  of  war. 
The  latter,  to  find  profitable  employment  in  raising  companies, 
regiments  or  brigades,  for  Staten  Island,  East  Xew  York  or 
the  Red  House,  drawing  pay  and  subsistence  for  twice  or 
three  times  the  number  ever  in  camp,  and  coolly  pocketing 
the  difference !  It  is  idle  to  talk,  as  exaggerating  sensation- 
paragraphists  sometimes  do,  of  stealing  the  pennies  off  the 
eyes  of  a  dead  grandmother  to  play  at  pitch-and-toss,  or 
forging  the  name  of  a  buried  father  to  a  note  and  then  allow- 


SH0ULD£K-S3T  JiAPS.  137 

ing  it  to  go  to  protest, — it  is  idle  to  talk  of  these  as  the  ex- 
treme of  criminal  heartlessness :  the  men  who  eould  thus 
trade — the  men  who  have  thus  traded,  during  the  whole  war 
— on  the  public  patriotism  and  the  public  necessity,  would 
deserve  the  lowest  deep  in  the  pit  of  perdition,  following  upon 
leprosy  in  life  and  deaths  on  dunghills — if  there  was  not  a  still 
deeper  guilt  on  the  souls  of  those  who  first  plunged  the  coun- 
try into  war  and  then  murdered  it  by  treason  or  inefficiency.  * 

The  public  disgust  at  these  "  shoulder-straps"  of  both  classes 
culminated  during  the  first  week  of  July.  It  might  be  unpatri- 
otic and  even  cowardly  to  make  no  movement  towards  joining 
the  Army  of  the  Union  :  it  was  base  and  utterly  contemptible 
to  make  such  a  movement  merely  as  an  injurious  sham.  So 
thought  the  people — seeing  in  this  desire  of  military  regula- 
tion and  profit  without  service  or  sacrifice,  the  worm  gnawing 
at  the  very  heart  of  the  republic.  "  If  they  are  not  soldiers, 
why  do  they  wear  these  trappings  of  the  battle-field  V  asked 
the  public.  "  If  they  are  soldiers,  why  are  they  loitering  here 
when  their  comrades  are  being  overpowered  and  slaugh- 
tered V  Alas  !  the  question  has  been  continually  asked  and 
never  answered.  "  Leipsic  was  lost,  and  I  not  there  I"  cried 
the  soldier  of  the  old  French  Eleventh,  bursting  into  tears. 
But:  "All  the  great  battles  of  this  war  have  been  fought, 
and  I  have  managed  to  keep  out  of  them  I"  might  the  shoulder- 
strapped,  belted,  fatigue-capped,  strutting  mock-soldier  of  our 
own  time  say  with  a  corresponding  chuckle.  God  help  us  ! — 
Rome  had  but  one  Nero  fiddling  when  it  burned,  if  history 
tells  us  true :  we  have  had  ten  thousand  military  fiddlers 
playing  away  to  admiring  audiences  during  our  conflagration  ! 

Is  this  to  be  a  wholesale  attack,  then,  on  our  national 
courage  ?  Had  we  no  brave  men,  then,  that  only  these  apolo- 
gies for  men  are  exhibited  ?  Yes  ! — thousand  upon  thousand 
of  brave  men,  and  hundred  upon  hundred  of  brave  officers — 
the  world  over  no  better  or  truer  !  But  they  were,  as  they 
are,  the  men  of  action,  not  of  show,  or  at  least  not  of  show 
alone. 

One  incident  of  the  morning  of  the  Second  of  July,  when 

*  January  17th,  1S63. 


138  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  Seven  Days  Battles  were  yet  in  progress  before  Richmond, 
will  at  once  supply  a  few  figures  for  this  background,  and  an 
illustration  of  the  public  feeling  for  the  soldiers  of  the  little 
army  of  action  and  the  great  army  of  sham  ! 

A  few  words  had  been  permitted  by  the  telegraph-censors 
to  come  through,  and  they  had  arrived  too  late  for  the  morn- 
ing papers.  They  were  consequently  bulletined.  They  gave 
borne  hint  of  the  abandonment  of  the  White  House  and  the 
revere  fighting  which  followed  that  movement,  on  Saturday 
and  Sunday.  They  were  not  hopeful — they  were  discouraging 
■ — much  worse,  as  it  afterwards  appeared,  than  the  truth  de- 
manded ;  and  the  knit  brows  and  set  teet  of  the  readers  did 
not  show  any  symptoms  of  improvement  under  the  new  reve- 
lation. 

A  considerable  group  of  men  were  standing  about  the 
"  World"  bulletin,  stopping,  reading  and  passing  on — all  the 
more  slowly  because  the  shade  of  the  high  building  was  re- 
freshing in  that  hot,  blinding,  cloudless  July  morning  sun. 
A  group  of  politicians  who  had  read  the  bulletins  and  taken 
their  second  breakfast  at  Crook  and  Duff's,  were  digesting  the 
one  and  picking  their  teeth  from  the  fragments  of  the  other, 
before  the  door  of  that  unaccountably-popular  establishment, 
on  the  block  above.  Over  the  street  from  the  "World"  corner, 
at  the  Park  fence,  a  dozen  or  two  of  invalid  soldiers,  with 
jaundiced  faces  and  shabby  uniforms,  who  had  arrived  by 
steamer  from  the  South  the  day  before  and  taken  up  their 
temporary  abode  in  the  dirty  Barracks, — were  standing  loung- 
ing and  listening  to  what  was  read  from  the  bulletin ;  while 
a  sentinel  paraded  up  and  down  the  walk,  outside,  to  pre- 
vent escapes  that  did  not  seem  over-probable.  Voices  were 
a  little  high,  though  not  in  disagreement,  among  the  group  at 
the  corner — for  they  were  discussing  the  very  subject  noted — 
that  of  absenteeism  and  military  sham. 

At  that  moment  a  good-looking  young  officer  in  spotless 
full  uniform,  with  his  cap  so  natty  that  the  rain  could  never 
have  been  allowed  to  fall  upon  it,  with  his  hair  curled  and  his 
moustache  trim  as  if  he  had  been  intended  for  any  other 
description  of  "ball"  than  one  met  on  the  field  of  battle,  and 
with  a  Captain's  double-bars  on  his  shoulder, — came  across 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  139 

the  Park  from  the  direction  of  Broadway,  over  to  the  Beek- 
maii  Street  corner,  as  if  to  pass  down  that  street.  Some  of 
the  talkers  noticed  him,  and  connected  him  and  his  class  a 
little  injuriously  with  the  events  of  the  day.  Just  as  he  passed 
the  corner,  brushing  very  near  some  of  the  talkers  and  casting 
a  hurried  glance  at  the  bulletin-board — one  of  the  crowd,  a 
rough  fellow  who  might  have  belonged  to  the  set  who  growled 
and  hooted  Coriolanus  out  of  Rome, — broke  out  with  : — 

"  There  goes  one  of  them,  now  !" 

"  Yes,  muttered  another,  almost  in  front  of  the  officer. 
"  D — n  'em  all !  Much  good  those  shiny  uniforms  are  doing 
the  country  I" 

The  officer,  who  must  have  heard  the  words  and  known 
that  they  were  intended  for  his  ears,  paid  no  attention  and 
was  passing  on — the  part  of  prudence  and  propriety,  beyond 
a  doubt.  But  one  of  the  crowd  was  not  satisfied.  He  must 
make  wrong  of  the  right  (a  thing  very  common  in  all  causes) 
and  the  insult  a  personal  one. 

"  See  here  !"  and  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  officer's  arm, 
detaining  him,  but  not  roughly.  "  Do  you  see  what  there  is 
on  that  bulletin  ?" 

"  I  see  1"  said  the  Captain. 

u  Yes,  they  are  cutting  our  boys  all  to  pieces  down  there  !" 
went  on  the  aggrieved  citizen. 

u  Well  ?"  again  said  the  officer,  apparently  neither  angry 
nor  frightened. 

"  Well !"  spoke  the  other,  repeating  his  word,  but  a  little 
abashed  by  the  calmness  of  the  officer,  whose  arm  he  had  let 
go  the  moment  he  turned  to  speak  to  him.  "  Well ! — per- 
haps it  is  none  of  my  business,  you  know — but  why  the 
d — 1  don't  you  fellows  who  have  such  handsome  uniforms, 
and  commissions,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  go  down  and 
help  ?" 

"Humph!"  said  the  Captain,  still  with  no  symptom  of 
being  abashed  or  angry.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well,  for 
all  of  us  who  could." 

"Oh,  you  can't  go,  eh?"  said  another  member  of  the 
assemblage,  in  a  sneering  tone. 

"  Xot  yet!"  was  the  reply  of  the  officer 
9 


140  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  I  thought  not  I"  said  the  man  who  had  first  addressed 
him. 

"  See  here,  boys  !"  said  the  Captain,  haven't  you  made  a 
mistake  in  your  man  ?  I  hate  a  stay-at-home  soldier,  quite 
as  much  as  you." 

11  Why  don't  you  go,  then  ?"  one  of  the  others  again  inter- 
rupted. 

"  I  have  been,  and  I  am  going  again  /"  said  the  Captain, 
emphatically.  "  I  see  what  is  the  matter.  I  have  just  put 
on  a  new  uniform,  and  you  think  that  looks  suspicious.  So 
It  docs,  I  suppose  ;  but  my  old  one  has  been  through  six 
pitched  battles  and  looks  rough  enough  to  suit  you." 
.  "  The  d — 1  it  has  !"  said  the  man  who  had  addressed  him. 
"  Really,  Captain,  I  beg  your  pardon  !" 

11  Never  mind  that !"  said  the  Captain.  "  You  will  probably 
hit  the  right  man  next  time,  and  the  quicker  you  shame  the 
make-believes  into  doing  something  or  pulling  off  their  uni- 
forms, the  better.     McClellan  wants  us  all — " 

"  McClellan's  the  boy  !"  broke  out  a  voice. 

"  You  are  right — '  Little  Mac's'  the  boy  !"  said  the  Cap- 
tain. "  He  wants  us  all.  The  doctor  told  me  this  morning 
that  I  might  go  back,  and  I  am  going  to-morrow." 

"  The  doctor  ? — then  you  have  been  sick  or  wounded  ! 
What  a  fool  I  have  been  making  of  ni}Tself !"  said  the  first 
speaker,  generous  as  rough. 

"A  little!"  answered  the  Captain,  and  by  a  dexterous 
movement  he  flung  back  his  coat,  threw  open  his  collar  and 
bared  his  neck  almost  to  the  shoulder.  The  whole  top  of  the 
shoulder  seemed  to  have  been  shot  away,  and  the  blade 
broken,  by  a  ball  that  had  struck  him  there  and  ploughed 
through  into  the  neck  ;  and  the  yet  imperfectly  healed  flesh 
lay  in  torn  ridges  of  ghastly  disfigurement.  Thousands  of 
men  have  died  from  wounds  of  not  half  the  apparent  conse- 
quence ;  and  yet  the  wearer  of  this  was  the  smiling  and 
even-tempered  man  of  the  new  uniform — going  back  to- 
morrow !  The  world  has  not  lost  all  its  heroes  yet ;  and 
some  of  them  have  the  same  fancy  for  a  clean  shirt  and  spot- 
less broadcloth,  when  attainable,  as  Murat  displayed  for  a 
velvet  cloak,  or  white  plume  and  plenty  of  gold  embroidery 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  141 

on  his  trousers,  when  making  the  most  reckless  of  charges  at 
the  head  of  the  most  dashing  cavalry  in  the  world.  "That," 
said  the  Captain,  closing  up  the  won  ml  as  rapidly  as  he  had 
opened  it,  but  not  before  a  general  shudder  had  run  through 
the  crowd  at  its  ghastly  character — "  that  I  got  at  Fair  Oaks, 
three  weeks  ago  last  Sunday.  IIow  do  you  like  it  ?  Am  I 
going  back  soon  enough  ?     Good  morning,  boys  !" 

"  And  your  name  ?"  asked  the  man  who  had  stopped  him, 
as  he  attempted  to  pass  on.     "  Who  are  you  ? — Do  tell  us." 

"  Nobody  that  you  would  know,"  said  the  Captain.  "  My 
name  is  D ,  and  I  belong  to  the  Sickles  Brigads." 

He  passed  on,  hurriedly,  down  Beekman  Street,  as  if 
"  Little  Mac"  had  sent  for  him  and  he  had  been  wasting  time 
in  going ;  but  the  cheer  that  went  after  him  was  joined  in  by 
the  invalids  at  the  Park  fence,  who  had  caught  a  part  of  the 
dialogue;  and  the  people  in  the  "World"  office  looked  up 
from  their  account  books,  wondering  wrhat  wTas  the  matter  in 
the  street;  while  the  politicians  in  front  of  Crook  and  Duff's, 
among  whom  were  some  of  the  City  Fathers  and  their 
backers  and  bottle-holders,  losing  the  other  part  of  the  affair 
and  only  hearing  the  shouts,  wondered  whether  some  new 
notability  had  not  just  arrived  at  the  Astor  House,  who  could 
be  turned  to  profitable  use  in  the  way  of  a  reception  in  the 
Governor's  Room,  a  few  "  Committees,"  gloves,  carriages 
from  Van  Ranst  and  a  dinner  or  two  all  around — of  course 
at  the  expense  of  the  economically-managed  city  treasury. 

And  this  closes  a  chapter  which  has  made  no  direct  pro- 
gress whatever  in  following  the  leading  characters  of  this 
story,  who  must  now  be  again  taken  up  in  their  order. 


142  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Following  up  the  Prince  Street  Mystery — Tom  Leslie's 
Peculiar  Ideas — A  Call  upon  Superintendent  Kennedy 
— The  Departure  of  a  Regiment — Josey  Harris  in  a 
Street-Squall — A  Rencontre. 

It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  Tom  Leslie  and  Walter 
Lane  Harding,  after  the  expenditure  of  ten  dollars,  a  whole 
night's  rest  and  a  considerable  amount  of  bodily  energy,  in 
the  investigation  of  what  they  called  the  '  Prince  Street 
mystery,'  would  permit  it  to  remain  uninvestigated  after- 
wards, so  far  as  a  little  more  money  and  a  good  deal  more  of 
inquisitiveness  could  go  in  unravelling  it.  Even  before  they 
parted,  late  on  the  night  of  the  adventure,  they  had  discussed 
half  a  dozen  plans  for  gaining  admission  to  the  house  on 
Prince  Street  or  that  on  East  5 — th,  by  fair  means  or  foul. 
Harding,  who  was  something  of  a  stickler  for  propriety  in 
ordinary  cases,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had  on  that  one 
occasion  been  inveigled  into  following  a  carriage  and  playing 
spy  under  a  front  stoop — Harding  expressed  himself  satisfied 
that  there  being  now  in  their  minds  a  sufficient  certainty  of 
the  existence  of  a  disloyal  organization  in  the  city  to  make 
affidavits  to  that  effect  a  duty — the  proper  course  would  be  to 
lay  the  matter  at  once  before  the  Superintendent  of  Police 
and  request  that  a  watch  might  be  set  upon  the  houses  or 
some  proceedings  taken  to  "  work  up  "  the  case  for  after  pro- 
ceedings. The  young  merchant  no  doubt  had  more  confidence 
in  this  plan  than  he  might  otherwise  have  done,  from  the  fact 
that  a  few  months  previous  a  robbery  had  been  committed  at 
his  place  of  business,  and  that  upon  his  laying  the  matter  at 
once  before  the  police  authorities,  such  steps  had  been  taken 
as  within  two  weeks  secured  the  detection  of  the  leading  cul- 
prit and  the  recovery  of  most  of  the  missing  property.  Here 
was  a  detective  "bridge"  that  had  once  "carried  him  safe 
over "  in  a  commercial  point  of  view :  why  would  not  the 
same  bridge  offer  both  of  them  a  safe  footing  when  attempt- 
ing to  unravel  a  mystery  of  disloyalty  ? 


SHOL'LDEK-STKAPS.  143 

Tom  Leslie,  as  was  natural  to  one  of  his  temperament,  took 
a  different  view  of  the  whole  matter.  Mysteries  "bothered" 
the  straight-forward  Harding;  but  to  Tom  they  formed  one 
of  the  necessities  of  existence — a  little  less  indispensable  than 
his  breakfast,  but  much  more  important  than  his  cigar.  Had 
he  been  precisely  the  sort  of  man  for  employing  police  agency 
where  personal  investigation  was  possible,  he  would  never 
hove  climbed  the  tree  in  Prince  Street  or  dragged  Harding 
under  the  stoop  of  the  brown-stone  house.  He  suggested  that 
Harding  would  not  have  much  difficulty  in  making  himself 
up  for  a  postman,  and  getting  inside  the  up-town  house  in 
that  capacity,  trusting  to  his  own  skill  to  remain  within  until 
he  had  made  the  necessary  investigations ;  while  as  for  him- 
self— well,  he  had  no  particular  objections  to  entering  tempo- 
rarily upon  the  occupation  of  a  tinker  or  a  gatherer  of  old 
rags  and  bottles,  with  a  disguise  from  his  friend  Williams,  the 
costumer,  and  working  the  basement  of  the  house  on  Prince 
Street,  and  the  domestics  therein  employed,  in  one  of  those 
capacities.  He  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  if  he  could  only 
succeed  in  concealing  himself  in  the  sub-cellar  or  the  coal- 
vault,  until  the  house  should  be  closed  for  the  night,  he  could 
then,  with  the  aid  of  a  few  matches  and  a  pair  of  list  slippers 
carried  in  the  pocket,  make  a  "rummage"  of  the  premises 
which  must  prove  eminently  satisfactory.  He  did  not  seem 
to  labor  under  any  fear  that  the  little  accident  of  being  dis- 
covered while  lying  perdu  or  while  making  his  explorations, 
and  arrested  and  sent  to  Blackwell's  Island  as  an  ordinary 
sneak-thief,  might  possibly  stand  in  the  way.  In  fact,  if  all 
stories  of  his  earlier  life  were  to  be  credited,  he  had  taken 
some  pains,  in  more  than  one  instance,  to  be  arrested  by  the 
Police  under  what  appeared  to  be  suspicious  circumstances, 
spend  a  night  in  the  station-house,  and  astound  the  Police 
Justices,  who  personally  knew  him  somewhat  too  well  for 
their  comfort,  by  his  appearance  as  a  very  woe-begone  culprit 
in  the  morning.  "  I)e  gustibus  non  est,"  etc. — there  is  really 
no  disputing  about  tastes,  since  St.  Simeon  Stylites  roosted 
upon  the  top  of  a  very  inconvenient  pillar,  and  the  first  ostrich 
inaugurated  the  dietary  proclivities  of  the  race  by  gobbling 
down  a  small  cart-load  of  cord-wood  with  a  garnish  of  a  peck 


144  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

of  paving-stones !  A  night  in  a  station -house  may  not  be  so 
very  unpleasant  a  thing,  when  taken  from  choice  and  with  a 
certainty  of  the  door  being  laughingly  opened  in  the  morn- 
ing :  Whiskey  Tom  or  Scratching  Sail,  who  visit  the  institu- 
tion perforce,  for  small  burglaries  or  big  vagrancies,  with  a 
prospect  of  "six  months"  or  "two  years"  at  the  end,  may 
form  a  very  different  opinion  of  it ! 

Tom  Leslie,  as  has  been  remarked,  did  not  seem  to  have 
any  fears  of  such  a  result  as  an  arrest,  to  his  proposed  spy- 
movements;  but  it  cannot  be  concealed  that  for  a  moment 
Walter  Harding,  who  had  before  thought  that  he  knew  him 
well,  looked  at  him  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  with  some 
impression  that  he  must  unwittingly  have  been  keeping 
company  with  a  genteel  house-breaker.  At  all  events, 
Harding  did  not  fall  in  with  the  spy-proposition,  so  far  as  his 
own  action  was  concerned,  alleging  that  there  might  be  such 
a  thing  as  a  business  man  having  other  occupations  than 
traversing  the  city  in  disguise  as  a  volunteer  detective  ;  and 
so  that  project,  if  any  there  had  really  been  in  the  mind  of 
Leslie,  was  abandoned. 

A  resort  to  the  police  remained  ;  for  neither  of  the  friends, 
after  what  they  had  seen  and  heard,  could  think  of  the  whole 
affair  being  allowed  to  go  by  default.  Superintendent 
Kennedy  must  be  visited,  after  all ;  and  though  Harding's 
business  for  the  next  day  would  interfere,  it  was  more  than 
half  agreed  upon  before  they  separated,  that  they  would  call 
together  upon  that  official  on  the  next  day  but  one  and  lay 
the  whole  matter  before  him. 

The  agreement,  though  only  half  made,  was  better  kept 
than  many  that  are  made  more  conclusively ;  for  at  eleven 
o'clock  on  the  day  named  Leslie  made  his  appearance  at  the 
place  of  business  of  Harding,  and  dragged  him  away  from  a 
series  of  mercantile  calculations  over  the  desk,  in  which  he 
had  more  than  half  forgotten  the  existence  of  his  friend  as 
well  as  the  whole  adventure  of  the  chase  and  the  mystery. 
He  came  up  to  the  work  pretty  readily,  however— t lie 
presence  of  the  rattling,  go-ahead  Leslie  always  having  the 
effect  of  carrying  him  a  little  off  his  feet ;  and  half  an  hour 
afterwards   the   two  friends  had   entered   that  melancholy- 


SnOULDER-STR  APS.  145 

looking  five-story  brick  building  on  the  corner  of  Broome 
ami  Kim,  then  and  till  lately  known  as  the  headquarters  of 
the  Metropolitan  Police, — and  were  being  shown  by  a  police- 
man in  attendance,  with  the  bine  of  his  suit  undimmed  by 
exposuro  to  the  weather  and  the  brass  of  his  buttons  radiantly 
untarnished,  into  the  presence  of  John  A.  Kennedy,  Superin- 
tendent of  the  Metropolitan  Police  District  and  for  the  time 
Provost  Marshal  of  the  City  of  New  York.  They  entered 
from  the  hall  of  the  building  by  a  side  door  to  the  left,  in  the 
rear  of  what  had  been  the  centre  of  the  house  when  occupied 
as  a  private  residence  before  New  York  moved  up  "  above 
Bleecker," — and  advancing  towards  the  front  under  the 
guidance  of  the  respectful  official,  p'assed  the  table  at  which 
sat  the  half-bald,  stern-faced,  and  iron-gray  Deputy  Superin- 
tendent Carpenter,  through  the  door  that  had  once  separated 
the  two  parlors,  and  stood  in  the  presence  of  another  iron- 
gray  man,  seated  writing  at  a  table  covered  with  books  and 
papers,  his  back  to  the  front  of  the  building,  and  the  smooth- 
shaven  and  round-faced  Inspector  Leonard  busily  examining 
a  roll  of  papers  behind  him  in  the  corner. 

Few  men  in  this  whole  country  have  occupied  a  more 
marked  position  in  the  public  mind,  during  all  this  struggle, 
than  Superintendent  Kennedy,  in  his  legitimate  position  at 
the  head  of  the  Police  and  in  what  we  must  believe  to  have 
been  his  il-legitimate  one  as  Provost  Marshal.  He  made 
himself  peculiarly  conspicuous,  and  won  the  enmity  of  all  the 
secession  wing  of  the  Northern  democracy,  by  stopping  the 
shipment  of  arms  to  the  rebellious  States,  and  blocking  the 
apparent  game  of  Mayor  Wood  and  his  aiders  and  abettors 
to  curry  favor  with  the  extreme  South  by  truckling  to  every 
one  of  its  arrogant  dictations.  The  enmity  then  created  has- 
never  died,  and  can  never  die  until  those  who  hold  it  happen 
to  die  themselves:  At  the  same  time,  those  who  were  and 
are  unconditionally  loyal  to  the  Union,  have  never  judged 
the  action  of  Superintendent  Kennedy  very  harshly — aware 
that  something  needed  to  }><>  done  to  prevent  the  existing 
evil,  and  that  only  a  man  of  his  indomitable  "pluck"  could 
be  found  to  apply  the  remedy  at  such  a  period. 

A  somewhat  broader  and  more  general  charge  has  since 


146  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

been  preferred  against  him — that  in  the  exercise  of  the  duties 
of  Provost  Marshal,  which  he  assumed  without  propriety,  he 
showed  himself  a  willing  tool  of  governmental  despotism  and 
displayed  indefensible  harshness  and  arrogance.  There  is 
something  of  truth  in  this  charge,  beyond  a  question, — as 
the  impossibility  of  "  touching  pitch"  without  being  "  denied," 
applies  to  intercourse  with  wrong-doers  high  in  power  as 
well  as  to  those  in  lower  station.  The  station-houses  of  the 
Xew  York  police  were  certainly  made  receptacles  for  accused 
parties  whose  crimes  were  very  different  from  those  contem- 
plated in  their  erection, — -just  as  the  forts  in  the  harbors  of 
Xew  York  and  Boston  have  been  made  "  Bastilles"  for  state- 
prisoners  whose  arrests  were  signally  reckless  and  improper. 
Many  of  the  prisoners,  in  both  cases,  have  deserved  more 
than  all  the  punishment  received  ;  but  the  blind  uncertainty 
as  to  their  guilt,  and  the  impossibility  of  discovering  even  the 
nature  of  the  charges  against  them,  have  made  those  im- 
prisonments equally  indefensible  and  dangerous,  and  brought 
them  at  last  to  their  end. 

There  is  a  woman  at  the  bottom  of  almost  every  revolution 
— political  as  well  as  social.  Tradition  tells  us,  though  history 
is  silent  on  the  subject,  that  the  sad  fate  of  the  daughter  of  a 
French  citizen,  flung  into  the  Bastille  for  alleged  complicity 
in  a  conspiracy  during  the  early  days  of  Louis  XVI.,  and 
dying  there — rankled  in  the  minds  of  the  Parisians  much  more 
than  the  wrongs  done  to  thousands  of  brave  and  noble  men 
during  the  centuries  previous,  and  furnished  the  burden  of  the 
terrible  cry  with  which  the  men  of  1789  thundered  at  the 
walls  of  that  old  fortress  of  feudal  oppression,  and  with  which 
they  butchered  not  only  De  Launay,  the  Governor  of  the 
Bastille,  but  Flesselles,  the  Provost  Marshal.  The  case  of  a 
woman — Mrs.  Brinsmaid — was  the  last  drop  in  the  cup  of  en- 
durance, here,  and  the  event  which  we  believe  was  finally  and 
forever  to  close  the  melancholy  doors  of  Lafayette  and  Warren, 
against  arrest  without  charge  and  imprisonment  without  trial 
■ — spite  of  indemnity  bills  passed  and  unlimited  powers  con- 
ferred upon  the  President  by  a  mad  Congress. 

Through  all  this,  meanwhile,  John  A.  Kennedy  was  unques- 
tionably more  sinned  against  than  sinning — made  the  tool  of 


SH  O  U  L  D  E  R* S T R  A  P  S.  147 

worse  and  more  unscrupulous  men,  who  used  his  hard  con- 
scientiousness and  his  narrow  bigotry  of  mind,  fostered  by  too 
long  and  too  close  connection  with  the  lodges  of  secret  socie- 
ties— to  carry  out  their  own  designs  of  despotism,  without  the 
nobility  to  stand  between  him  and  his  possible  sacrifice  for 
obeying  the  very  orders  they  had  given.  He  is  not  the  first 
man  who  has  been  misused  and  placed  in  a  false  position,  nor 
the  last,  as  a  later  victim  of  blind  confidence  and  obedience, 
]>  urn  side,*  is  very  likely  to  bear  sad  witness. 

But  all  this  while,  for  the  purposes  of  this  narrative,  Tom 
Leslie  and  his  friend  Harding  have  been  standing  unnoticed 
in  the  presence  of  the  Superintendent.  Not  very  long  in 
reality — scarcely  longer  than  enabled  them  to  note  the  hair  and 
elosely-cut  full  beard  of  iron  gray,  the  keen  but  troubled  eyes, 
that  had  scarcely  yet  ceased  to  moisten  at  the  memory  of  the 
loss  of  a  dearly  loved  brother, f  the  face  care-worn  and  anxious, 
and  the  shoulders  bent  over  a  little  as  he  sat, — scarcely  longer 
time  than  this  was  given  them,  when  the  Superintendent  laid 
down  his  pen  and  said,  sharply  and  decisively : 

"  Well,  gentlemen  V 

There  was  nothing  very  cordial  in  the  tone,  and  no  indica- 
tion that  the  Superintendent  considered  it  peculiarly  his  place 
to  listen  to  all  the  persons  who  came  to  him  upon  business ; 
but  perhaps  this  comparative  brmquerie  is  necessary,  in  the 
carrying  on  of  any  important  department,  to  discourage  bores 
and  send  idle  people  the  sooner  about  their  business.  It  does 
not  add  to  popularity,  however,  and  may  add  materially  to  the 
opposite. 

Under  such  circumstances,  it  did  not  need  a  very  long  period 
of  time  for  Tom  Leslie,  with  the  occasional  assistance  of 
Harding,  whose  memory  was  much  more  accurate  if  not  more 
retentive — to  convey  to  the  Superintendent  the  main  facts  of 
their  midnight  adventure,  with  the  impression  that  adventure 
had  made,  of  some  disloyal  movements  going  on  in  the  City, 
and  probably  with  extended  ramifications  elsewhere.  Except 
to  say  that  one  of  the  women  seen  on  that  evening  had  before 

*  January  25th,  1863. 

t  Col.  William  D.  Kennedy,  of  the  Tammany  Regiment. 


14:8  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

fallen  under  his  notice  in  Europe,  Leslie  did  not  allude  to  the 
episode  of  the  "red  woman,''  nor  did  he  enter  into  the  par- 
ticulars of  his  previous  meetings  with  Dexter  Ralston,  though 
he  asserted  his  knowledge  of  him  as  a  Virginian  of  peculiar 
influence  and  a  very  ambiguous  position.  The  Superintendent 
showed  few  signs  of  interest  in  the  narration,  though  his  sharp 
eve  occasionally  glanced  at  the  face  of  the  principal  narrator, 
and  though  he  two  or  three  times  made  motions  with  the  penci  1 
lying  before  him,  which  might  have  been  merely  listless  occu- 
pation of  his  fingers  and  might  have  been  .something  very 
different, 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Superintendent,  when  they 
had  concluded.  "It  is  certainly  a  Btrange  story  you  have 
been  telling,  and  of  course  I  do  not  question  the  entire  vera- 
city of  your  narration  of  what  you  saw  or  thought  you  saw. 
But  there  is  nothing  proved,  so  far,  that  could  justify  any 
arrest,  even  if  we  could  find  the  persons  to  arrest.  I  do  not 
see  that  there  is  anything  /could  do  in  the  matter." 

"  I  told  you  so  1"  said  Leslie  in  a  low  voice  to  his  friend. 
He  had  opposed  coming  to  the  Superintendent  at  all,  be  it  re- 
membered. 

"  Nothing  ? — not  even  to  set  a  watch  upon  the  two  houses 
we  have  named  ?"  asked  Harding,  a  good  deal  surprised  and 
not  a  little  out  of  temper. 

"  Humph  !"  answered  the  Superintendent,  "  This  is  not 
France  under  the  Empire,  and  I  am  not  Fouche." 

"  The  latter  part  of  that  sentence  may  probably  be  true  :  I 
have  ray  doubts  about  the  other  '."thought  Tom  Leslie,  though 
he  waited  a  more  prudent  occasion  for  communicating  the 
thought  to  Harding. 

"  And  so,  Mr.  Superintendent,  you  consider  all  this  of  no 
consequence  ?"  said  Harding,  going  back  to  first  principles, 
and  not  by  any  meaus  improving  in  the  matter  of  temper. 

"  I  did  not  say  anything  of  the  kind  !"  answered  the  Super- 
intendent, his  face  sterner  but  his  voice  even  as  before.  "  I 
said  there  was  nothing  upon  which  I  could  act,  and  the  police 
force  of  the  district  is  scarcely  sufficient  to  set  a  watch  around 
all  the  houses  that  may  happen  to  have  traitors  in  them.  I 
would  advise  you  to  say  nothing  of  this  affair  to  any  other 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  149 

persons,  if  you  have  not  yet  done  so  ;  and  if  you  see  or  hear 
of  anything  more  that  will  seem  to  justify  an  arrest,  commu- 
nicate with  this  office  again.* 

He  did  not  say  "  good  morning  !"  as  a  sign  of  dismissal, 
but  his  maimer  indicated  as  much,  and  the  two  friends  left 
him  with  merely  an  additional  nod.  Harding  was  in  decided 
dudgeon  as  the  policeman  of  the  bright  blue  cloth  and  the 
Unimpeachable  buttons  accompanied  them  to  the  door,  and 
muttered  something  very  like  "  I'm  d— d  if  I  do  communicate 
with  that  office  again,  in  a  hurry  !"  Leslie,  who  had  seen 
more  of  police  operations,  both  abroad  and  at  home,  than  his 
friend,  and  who  had  expected  little  or  nothing  else  from  the 
first, —kept  his  good  humor  admirably  ;  and  he  bored  Harding, 
before  they  had  walked  from  the  office  to  Broadway,  with  the 
information  that  that  was  about  all  the  thanks  any  man  ever 
received  for  attempting  to  do  a  service  to  government  or  indi- 
viduals, and  a  relation  of  how  at  Naples  a  couple  of  years 
before,  he  had  attempted  to  save  the  life  of  an  Englishman 
threatened  with  assassination,  and  been  arrested  and  very 
nearly  imprisoned  for  an  attempt  to  stab  the  man  himself, 
with  his  pen-knife  or  tooth-pick— he  never  knew  precisely 
which  1 

The  two  friends  were  scarcely  in  the  street,  when  the 
Superintendent  called  sharply  : 

"  Mr.  Carpenter  !" 

The  Deputy  was  in  the  room  in  a  moment.  The  Superin- 
tendent was  writing  a  few  words  on  a  piece  of  paper. 

"  You  heard  the  story  those  men  were  telling  ?" 

"  A  part  of  it — perhaps  all,"  answered  the  Deputy. 

"There  may  be  something  in  it — I  think  there  is,"  con- 
tinued the  Superintendent.  "  At  all  events,  put  those  two 
houses" — handing  him  the  slip  of  paper — "under  close  watch, 
and  discover  who  enters  and  who  leaves  them,  and  at  what 

hours.     Put  B and  another  good  man  in  charge  of  the 

Prince  Street  house,  and  L and  another  good  man  at  the 

due  in  East  5 —  Street.     That  is  all." 

The  Deputy  merely  1><>w<m1  and  returned  to  his  own  table, 
beckoning  to  one  of  the  policemen  near  the  door  and  giving 
the  necessary  orders  to  cany  out  the  directions  of  his  superior. 


150  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

So  that  almost  by  the  time  the  two  friends  reached  Broadway, 
and  certainly  some  time  before  Leslie  concluded  his  illustra- 
tive narration  of  police  management  in  Naples,  the  arrange- 
ment for  which  they  had  especially  come,  and  which  had  been 
apparently  denied,  was  already  in  active  operation.  The 
reasons  which  had  induced  the  Superintendent  to  underrate 
to  Harding  and  Leslie  the  importance  of  the  intelligence  he 
had  just  received,  or  which  had  led  to  so  sudden  a  change  of 
mind,  will  probably  remain  a  mystery  even  after  the  pro- 
founder  mysteries  of  governmental  management  during  the 
war  are  brought  into  broad  daylight.  There  is  no  Sphynx 
like  your  "man  in  authority,"  whether  his  reasons  for  silence 
be  that  he  does  not  wish  others  to  know  his  intentions,  or  that 
he  does  not  know  them  himself . 

It  was  perhaps  one  o'clock  when  the  two  friends  reached 
Broadway  and  turned  downward  to  return  to  their  different 
places  of  business — Harding  of  course  to  his  store  near  the 
Hospital,  and  Leslie  to  his  little  desk  in  the  office  of  the 
Daily  Thundergust,  or  anywhere  else  in  the  more  frequented 
parts  of  the  town,  where  he  might  chance  to  pick  up  material 
for  an  item  or  an  article.  Broadway  at  that  point  and  at  that 
moment  presented  an  appearance  that  used  to  be  extraordi- 
nary, but  that  of  late  months  has  been  almost  as  common  as 
its  ordinary  crowded  condition.  One  of  the  Eastern  regi- 
ments, that  had  just  landed  at  the  Xew  Haven  Bailroad  De- 
pot, was  on  its  way  down  to  the  Park  Barracks,  and  the 
police  had  been  clearing  the  street  of  omnibuses  and  carriages 
to  make  room  for  them.  The  sidewalks  on  both  sides  were 
pretty  well  filled  with  spectators — idlers  who  never  find  any- 
thing better  to  do  than  gazing  at  street  spectacles,  and  peo- 
ple of  both  sexes,  with  more  or  less  of  business  on  hand,  who 
cannot  avoid  pausing  for  a  moment  when  the  police  sweep 
by  to  clear  the  street  and  the  tap  of  the  bass-drum  is  heard, — 
just  to  see  what  the  excitement  is  all  about.  In  this  instance 
a  file  of  policemen  extending  almost  from  curb  to  curb  were 
marching  abreast  to  keep  the  way  clear  in  front  of  the  regi- 
ment ;  close  behind  them  sounded  the  crashing  of  brass,  the 
screaming  of  elarionetTreeds  and  the  tap  of  drums  ;  and  a 
little  farther  behind,  over  the  heads  of  the  advancing  column,  a 


s  II  0  0  L  D  E  11- ST  ft  A  i>  >.  151 

couple  of  flair*  caught  the  sun  and  waved  softly  in  the  light 
summer  air — one  the  glorious  old  banner,  with  its  three  colors 
that  blend  truth,  purity  and  devotion  till  death, — and  the 
other  a  fringed  and  tasselled  embroidery  of  dark  blue  silk, 
bearing  the  peculiar  arms  of  the  one  State  that  was  sending 
forth  more  of  its  bravest  sons  to  do  battle  for  all. 

"  A  Massachusetts  regiment,"  said  Harding.  "  One  was  to 
come  down  by  the  New  Haven  Road,  this  morning." 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie.  "You  can  afford  half  an  hour  more, 
while  I  can  afford  all  day  if  I  wish.  Let  us  wait  until  the 
show  passes."  They  paused  accordingly  and  took  shelter  be- 
side a  lamp-post  agaiust  the  downward  pressure  of  the  side- 
walk crowd  that  was  coming. 

Nearer  came  the  soldiers,  their  long  line  of  sloped  bayonets 
glancing  off  the  sunbeams  with  a  peculiarly  threatening  as- 
pect, and  their  equipments  showing  the  perfection  which  has 
been  accorded  by  the  Old  Bay  State  to  all  her  troops,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  men  of  some  of  the  other  States,  that 
have  been  allowed  to  go  down  to  the  conflict  looking  more 
like  a  mob  of  scarecrows  than  a  body  of  trained  soldiers. 
The  Colonel,  who  rode  first,  lolled  easily  on  his  saddle,  like 
one  who  had  not,  mounted  a  horse  for  the  first  time  when  he 
first  put  on  his  sword-belts  ;  the  Captains  of  the  various  com- 
panies stepped  out  boldly  and  clearly  in  front  of  their  men, 
turning  occasionally  to  see  that  the  line  was  properly  kept ; 
and  the  rank  and  file  tramped  on,  their  step  almost  steady 
enough  for  the  march  of  veteran  troops,  and  the  dull  thunder 
of  the  fall  of  each  thousand  of  feet  on  the  solid  pavement, 
making  the  most  impressive  sound  in  the  world  except  that 
supplied  by  the  multitudinous  clink  of  the  iron  hoofs  of  a 
cavalry  squadron  passing  over  the  same  stony  road. 

It  was  an  impressive  spectacle,  like  all  of  the  same  kind 
that  have  preceded  and  followed  it — a  glorious  spectacle, 
when  the  faces  of  most  of  the  men  were  observed,  and  nothing 
of  the  despairing  dullness  of  the  conscript's  eye  seen  there, 
but  the  vigorous  pride  and  determination  of  men  who  were 
going  forth  at  the  call  of  their  country  to  battle  for  that 
country  to  the  death.  And  yet  a  sad  spectacle,  as  all  the 
others  have  been,  when  waste  of  life  and  mismanngement  of 


152  R  H  0  U  L  V  K  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 

power  were  taken  into  the  account,  and  when  the  thinned 
ranks  that  should  return,  of  the  full  ranks  that  went  so 
proudly  away,  came  to  be  remembered.  Something  of  this 
latter  fooling',  and  the  peculiarities  of  the  time,  made  the 
waving  of  handkerchiefs  and  the  clapping  of  hands  less  fn- 
quent  and  cordial  than  the  fine-looking  fellows  and  their  ex- 
cellent appointments  really  deserved. 

"The  d — 1  take  the  politics  and  policy  of  Massachusetts  !'' 
broke  out  Tom  Leslie,  when  the  array  had  half  passed.  "  I 
do  not  like  her,  and  never  did.  But  she  does  send  out  troops 
as  the  old  Trojan  horse  poured  out  heroes  ;  she  does  know  how 
to  equip  and  take  care  of  them,  as  we  do  not ;  and  they  fight 
— eh,  Harding-,  don't  they  ?" 

"  Not  any  better  than  most  of  our  New  York  troops,  I 
fancy  !"  replied  Harding,  an  incarnate  New  Yorker,  to  the 
last  observation. 

"  Not  better,  perhaps,  but  more  steadily — not  so  dashingly, 
but  more  inevitably,"  said  Leslie,  going  into  one  of  his  fits  of 
abstract  philosophy,  where  he  must  perforce  be  followed,  like 
a  manioc  by  his  keeper.  "  Our  New  York  boys  go  into  the 
fight  more  as  a  spree — the  Xew  Englanders  more  as  a  duty. 
Our  boys  enjoy  it — they  endure  it ;  and  some  one  else  than 
myself  must  decide  which  is  the  higher  order  of  courage. 
Almost  all  the  Xew  Englanders  are  comparatively  fanatics, 
while  we  have  very  few  indeed,  unless  it  maybe  fanaticism  to 
worship  the  old  flag — God  bless  it !  If  it  could  have  been 
possible  for  England  to  be  plunged  into  a  general  war  w-ith 
some  other  country,  immediately  after  the  Restoration,  some- 
thing like  this  same  distinction  would  have  been  seen.  Sir 
Gervase  Langford  would  have  charged  upon  the  foe,  his 
feathers  flying  and  his  lady's  colors  woven  into  a  love-knot 
above  his  cuirass,  singing  a  roundelay  of  decidedly  loose  ten- 
dencies, precisely  as  he  had  once  charged  beside  Prince 
Rupert  on  the  bloody  day  of  Long  Marston ;  and  Master 
John  Grimston  would  have  snuffled  a  psalm  through  his  aom 
and  made  a  thanksgiving  prayer  over  a  cut  throat,  swinging 
his  long  two-handed  sword  meanwhile,  as  he  had  done  when 
mowing  down  the  '  nialignants '  at  Xaseby,  under  the  very 
eye  of  Oliver. himself.    That  would  have  been  an  odd  mixture 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  153 

fur  the  same  army;  bul  we  have  an  odder,  when  the  neat- 
vrhiskered  clerk  from  behind  the  dry-goods  counter  in  this 
city — the  rough  fisherman  from  Cape  Cud — the  lumberman 
from  the  forests  of  Maine— and  the  Long,  gangling  squirrel- 
hunters  from  the  wilds  of  Wisconsin, — all  meet  together  to 
fight  for  the  same  cause." 

"  True,"  said  Harding — "true.  And  I  suppose  that  fanati- 
cism does  fight  well.  It  has  no  fear  of  death,  and  very  little 
of  consequences.  How  much  difference  was  there,  I  wonder, 
between  Ali  at  the  head  of  his  Moslem  horde,  fresh  from  the 
teachings  of  Mohammed  himself,  and  fully  impressed  with  the 
belief  that  if  he  died  he  should  go  at  once  to  the  company  of 
the  Houris  in  Paradise, — and  Cromwell — or  Old  John  Brown 
— in  a  corresponding  madness  of  supposed  Christianity  ?  Not 
much,  eh  ?" 

**  Not  much — none  at  all  I"  replied  Leslie.  "But  see  how 
long  this  one  regiment  has  been  in  filing  past.  Only  one  regi- 
ment— not  much  more  than  a  thousand  men,  and  yet  the  street 
seems  full  of  the  glisten  of  their  bayonets  for  half-a-mile.  We 
have  grown  used  to  handling  the  phrases  'thirty  thousand,1 
'  fifty  thousand,'  '  one  hundred  thousand,'  or  even  '  a  quarter  of 
a  million'  of  men,  just  as  glibly  as  we  speak  of  one,  two  or 
ten  millions  of  money ;  and  yet  we  realize  very  little  of  the 
force  of  those  numbers.  Fifty  thousand  men  are  considered 
to  be  no  army — nothing  more  than  a  skirmishing  party,  now- 
adays ;  and  yet  to  form  it,  forty  or  fifty  such  bodies  of  men 
as  that  which  has  just  passed  us  must  be  included.  Is  it 
any  wonder — after  studying  a  thousand  men  in  this  manner 
— that  while  we  have  many  generals  capable  of  managing 
five  or  ten  thousand,  very  few  can  command  fifty  thousand 
without  making  a  mess  of  it,  and  a  hundred  thousand  suc- 
ceeds in  crazing  almost  every  one  of  our  commanders  V 

'■  Wonder  \  No,  I  should  think  not,"  said  Harding,  laugh- 
ing. "I  have  puzzle  enough,  sometimes,  with  even  that 
number  of  figures,  and  I  should  make  a  bad  muddle  of 
handling  that  quantity  of  men.  But,  by  the  way,  did  you 
ever  read  that  singular  novel,  'Border  War,'  by  a  South- 
w. -stern  writer,  Jones,  published  several  years  ago?" 

"  I  have  skimmed  it — never  read  it,"  said  Leslie.    "  Remark- 


154  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

able  book,  I  should  say,  to  be  read  over  now-a-days,  when 
the  event  then  handled  as  romance  has  become  reality  !*' 

"  The  numbers  of  his  opposing  forces,  as  compared  with 
the  actual  armies  of  the  present  day,  are  the  great  point  of 
Interest,"  said  Harding.  "He  makes  terrible  blunders  in 
guessing  at  the  great  battle-ground  of  the  war,  as  he  lays  the 
principal  battles  in  Upper  Maryland,  Pennsylvania  and  New 
Jersey,  and  does  not  seem  to  contemplate  the  possibility  of 
there  being  any  fighting  on  Southern  soil.  But  his  numbers — 
I  think  he  made  each  of  the  opposing  forces  number  some  one 
hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  thousand  men  ;  and  a  sharp 
reviewer  broke  out  into  a  loud  guffaw  over  the  impossibility 
that  any  such  number  of  men  could  ever  be  arrayed  against 
each  other,  on  the  soil  of  the  United  States,  by  any  possible 
convulsion.  Only  a  few  years  have  passed,  and  we  have  three 
or  four  times  his  numbers  in  the  tight  on  either  side,  with 
half  a  million  more  men  to  be  called  for." 

"We  are  travelling  fast — that  is  all,"  replied  Leslie. 

"  You  couldn't  exactly  inform  me  where,  could  you  ?" 
asked  Harding.  "But, — phew! — w! — w  !"'  looking  at  his 
watch,  "  the  soldiers  are  gone  and  time  is  up ;  I  must  look 
after  my  deposits  before  three." 

"And  what  are  we  to  do  about  our  mystery?"  asked  Les- 
lie, as  the  other  was  about  to  leave  him.  "  Give  that  up  al- 
together ? — or  will  you  agree  to  take  a  hand  in  at  personal 
investigation  ?" 

?'  Yes — no — I  really  do  not  know  what  to  say,  Tom  !"  was 
the  reply  of  Harding.  "At  all  events,  I  have  spent  all  the 
time  I  can  spare  to-day,  looking  after  that  and  the  soldiers. 
'Business  first  and  pleasure  afterwards,'  you  know." 

"  Yes,"  said  Leslie,  "  as  the  excellent  Duke  of  Gloster  re- 
marked, when  he  first  killed  the  old  King  and  then  murdered 
the  young  Princes." 

"Pshaw!"  replied  Harding,  "I  think  I  may  have  heard 
that  before." 

"  Yery  possibly,"  said  Leslie,  too  much  used  to  slight  re- 
buffs to  pay  them  any  great  attention. 

"  Well,  I  shall  walk  down  faster  than  you — bye-bye,  old 
fellow.     Look   in    at   my    place    to-morrow  and    let   us   see 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  165 

whether  we  can  arrange  to  do  anything  more  in  opposition  to 
His  Sigh  Mightiness  Superintendent  and  Provost  Marshal 
Kennedy,"  said  Harding,  moving  away. 

"  Look  !  look  !  over  there  !"  said  Leslie,  just  as  his  friend 
wan  leaving  him.     "  There  is  a  piece  of  infernal  impudence  !" 

The  two  friends  were  yet  on  the  East  side  of  Broadway,  as 
they  had  come  out  from  Broome  Street.  The  procession  had 
passed  from  the  street,  and  the  crowd  on  the  side-walks  had 
materially  cleared  away.  Leslie  had  been  looking  across  at 
the  passengers  on  the  "shilling  side."  Two  ladies,  neatly 
dressed  in  street  costume,  and  wearing  light  gypsies,  were 
walking  together,  downward.  Behind  them,  and  so  close 
that  he  nearly  trod  upon  their  dresses,  a  tall  man  was  walk- 
ing apparently  upon  tiptoe  and  leaning  over  so  that  his  head 
was  almost  between  theirs.  He  was  evidently  not  of  their 
party — was  apparently  listening  to  their  conversation  and 
scanning  the  necks  and  busts  before  him  somewhat  too 
closely ;  they  all  the  while  unconscious  what  a  miserable 
libel  on  humanity  was  dogging  them.  Ho  looked  foreign — 
perhaps  French,  especially  in  the  extraordinary  curve  and 
bell  of  his  black  round  hat, — was  well-dressed,  and  seemed  to 
1h-  gray-haired  enough  to  know  better. 

"  Impudence  ?  I  should  think  so,"  replied  Harding,  as  he 
paught  sight  of  the  two  girls  and  their  unobserved  follower. 
"  That  dirty  hound  would  rob  a  church  !  Oh,  if  I  could  only 
see  that  taller  one  turn  around,  now,  and  fetch  him  such  a 
slap  in  the  face  that  it  would  ring  for  a  twelvemonth  !  Why, 
by  Beavens,  Leslie  1"  he  said,  looking  closer.  "I  ought  to 
know  thai  figure,  and  I  do.  Come  over,  and  let  us  see  the 
end  of  this." 

And  your  bank  account  ?"  asked  Leslie. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  that — come  along  I"  and  in  half  a  minute 
they  were  across  tin-  Btreet  and  close  behind  the  ladies  and 
their  persecutor.  The  latter  kepi  his  place,  dodging  his  head 
around  :ir  every  opportunity  as  if  to  get  a  sight  of  the  faee 
of  the  taller  girl,  and  both  apparently  yet  unconscious  of  his 
presence. 

"  Do  you  see  a  policeman  ?"  asked  Harding-,  in  a  low  voice. 
"I  will  have  that  fellow  taken  up." 
10 


156  SHOU  LDEK-STRAPS. 

u  Xot  a  policeman  \n  answered  Leslie.  u  If  you  know  either 
of  the  ladies,  take  the  scoundrel  by  the  collar,  or  let  me." 

"I  do  know  the  taller  girl,"  said  Harding,  "and — n 

Suddenly  he  was  interrupted.  The  taller  lady  on  the  out- 
side wheeled  around  so  suddenly  as  almost  to  throw  the  tip- 
toe follower  off  his  feet,  confronted  him  boldly,  flung  up  the 
short  light  veil  that  depended  from  her  gypsy  and  partially 
hid  her  features,  ineffable  scorn  and  delicious  impudence  danc- 
ing at  the  same  moment  out  of  her  dark  eyes  and  flushed 
cheeks, — and  burst  out  with  : 

"  You  have  followed  me  long  enough.  Perhaps  you  want 
a  better  look  ?     Here  it  is  !     How  do  you  like  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  Joe  I"  said  the  other  lady,  almost  sinking  with  fright. 

"Upon  my  honor,  miss — ladies — it  was  all  a  mistake — I 
was  not  following  you — that  is — I  thought — " 

"You  are  lying,  sir,  and  you  know  it !"  spoke  the  strange 
girl,  the  words  fairly  hissing  from  her  red  lips  and  the  coming 
tears  already  combating  with  anger  in  her  voice.  "You  have 
followed  us  for  more  than  a  block,  leaning  over  our  very 
shoulders,  and  if  I  was  only  a  man  I  would  flog  you  within 
an  inch  of  your  life  1"  Here  pride  and  shame  overcame  anger, 
and  the  tears  buret  out  in  spite  of  her ;  so  that  by  the  time 
she  had  concluded  she  was  nearly  as  weak  and  helpless  as  her 
frightened  companion. 

The  sneaking  scoundrel  attempted  to  get  away,  not  less 
from  the  anger  of  the  outraged  girl  than  from  the  passers-by, 
a  dozen  or  two  of  whom  had  already  collected  ;  but  before  he 
could  make  any  movement  in  that  direction,  a  hand — that  of 
Walter  Harding,  was  laid  on  his  collar,  swinging  him  vio- 
lently around  ;  and  a  small  Malacca  cane — that  of  Tom  Leslie, 
was  laid  about  his  shoulders  and  back  with  such  good  will 
that  the  human  hound  literally  yelled  with  pain.  "  Serve 
him  right !"  "  Give  it  to  him  !"  and  other  exclamations  of  the 
same  character,  broke  from  those  who  had  heard  the  girl's 
words  and  who  saw  the  punishment ;  and  in  thirty  seconds  he 
was  perhaps  as  thoroughly-flogged  a  man  as  Broadway  ever 
saw.  Then  Harding  released  him  with  a  kick,  and  he  made 
three  howling  leaps  to  an  omnibus  passing  up.  and  disap- 
peared inside.     The  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  specta- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  157 

tors  was  that  he  would  not  much  enjoy  his  ride  ;  and  they  no 
doubt  had  another  impression  in  which  we  may  fully  share, 
that  though  vulgarism  is  "bred  in  the  bone  and  will  come  out 
in  the  flesh,"  yet  the  flogged  man  would  be  very  careful  of  the 
locality  in  which  he  again  indulged  in  the  same  atrocious  habit. 

All  this  time  the  taller  girl,  though  endeavoring  to  control 
her  emotion,  was  literally  sobbing  with  shame  and  anger,  while 
yet  half-laughing  at  the  sudden  punishment  of  her  persecutor. 
The  other  lady  had  been  too  much  frightened  to  utter  a  second 
exclamation,  and  neither  had  paid  any  attention  to  the  per- 
sonality of  their  defenders. 

But  at  this  stage  of  the  proceedings,  Walter  Harding  lifted 
his  hat  (his  hands  having  been  too  busy  before)  and  approached 
the  taller  lady. 

"  Miss  Harris,  if  I  am  not  mistaken." 

"Harris — that  is  my  name,  certainly,"  said  the  lady,  "and 
you  do  not  know  how  much  we  thank  you  for  your  kindness, 
but—" 

"But  you  don't  remember  me,  eh  ?"  This  was  said  with  a 
smile  that  brought  some  new  expression  to  his  face,  and  the 
wild  girl  instantly  cried: 

"  Yes,  I  do  remember  you — you  are — you  are — "  but  she 
had  not  yet  recovered  the  name  from  the  mists  of  forgetfulness, 
if  she  remembered  the  face. 

"Walter  Harding,  merchant,  of  this  city,  Miss  Josephine, 
and  very  glad  to  meet  you  again,  even  under  such  circum- 
stances." 

"Mr.  Harding — oh  yes,  what  a  crazy  head  I  have  !"  said 
the  lady,  smiles  now  altogether  taking  the  place  of  the  strug- 
gling tears,  and  giving  him  both  her  hands  with  the  freedom 
of  a  school-girl — either  in  acknowledgment  of  his  late  service 
or  as  an  apology  fur  her  momentary  forgetfulness.  "  Mr. 
Harding,  of  course  !  Newport — Purgatory — Dumpling  Rocks 
— everywhere — what  fish  we  caught  and  what  a  jolly  month 
we  had — didn't  we  ?  And  then  to  think  that  I  should  have 
forgotten  you,  even  for  a  moment !" 

The  explanation  of  which  is,  that  Walter  Lane  Harding 
had  met  Miss  Josephine  Harris  at  Newport,  in  the  summer 
of   1860,  and  that  they   had  been  much  pleased  with  the 


158  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

society  of  each  other  and  companions  in  many  a  stroll  and 
fishing-excursion.  Probably  neither  believed,  when  they 
parted,  thai  two  years  would  elapse  without  another  meeting; 
but  in  the  great  Babel  of  city  life  it  is  only  occasionally  that 
we  can  manage  to  make  ourselves  heard  by  each  other,  above 
the  clattering  of  the  hammers  and  the  confusion  of  tongue-. 
Had  they  been  lovers,  they  would  have  found  each  other 
before,  no  matter  what  stood  in  the  way;  but  friendships, 
even  the  warmest,  have  little  of  the  fierce  energy  of  love,  and 
a  very  cobweb  mesh  of  circumstances  or  business  <ugage- 
ments  can  bind  the  sentiment,  while  there  is  no  cord  spun  in 
the  long  rope-walk  of  life,  strong  enough  to  fetter  the  free 
limbs  of  the  passion.  That  Walter  Harding  and  Josephine 
Harris  had  only  met  by  accident  after  two  years,  and  \\-t 
both  living  in  the  same  city  and  moving  in  the  same  walk  of 
society — proved  that  they  might  have  liked  but  had  never 
lo  ved. 

The  few  passers-by  who  had  collected  around  the  ladies  at 
the  time  of  the  insult,  had  separated  when  they  proved  to  be 
in  the  company  of  male  acquaintances;  and  in  a  moment 
after  the  recognition  between  Harding  and  Joe  Harris,  the 
latter  had  introduced  Miss  Bell  Crawford,  the  heroine  of  the 
cerise  ribbon,  to  both  the  gentlemen  ;  and  she  had  received 
an  introduction  which  caused  her  to  start  and  color  singularly 
the  moment  their  eyes  met — to  Mr.  Tom  Leslie,  traveler, 
newspaper-correspondent,  Jack-at-all-trades  and  general  good 
fellow.  Was  that  interested  and  conscious  look  repaid  by 
another  on  the  part  of  Tom  Leslie,  or  had  he  had  sufficient 
time  after  seeing  the  young  girl  and  before  speaking  to  her, 
to  recover  from  any  agitation,  pleasurable  or  the  contrary, 
incident  to  the  meeting  ?  Did  they  know  each  other  or  only 
something  0/ each  other?  Had  they  met  before,  and  if  so, 
when  and  where  ?  Perhaps  some  light  may  be  thrown  on 
all  these  questions,  a  little  later  in  the  progress  of  this  story. 

At  the  present  juncture  two  of  the  parties  were  hungry; 
the  third  what  is  called  "  peckish,"  which  means  a  little 
hungry  and  quite  capable  of  bolting  a  sandwich  or  the  wing 
of  a  cold  turkey  ;  and  the  fourth  very  much  in  a  hurry  and 
anxious  to  get  away  to  his  business. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  159 

"  We  sent  our  carriage  home,  knowing  that  we  cuuld  not 
get  through  Broadway  while  the  troops  were  passing,"  said 
Bell  Crawford,  "with  orders  to  have  it  call  for  us  late  in  the 
afternoon,  at  a  friend's  house  near  Union  Square.  We  were 
just  going  down  to  Taylor's  for  a  little  lunch,  when  this 
awkward  affair  occurred  :  may  we  ask  you  to  join  us,  gentle- 
men ?" 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Josephine  Harris,  with  her  school-girl 
pleasure  at  the  proposition  ill-concealed.  "That  will  be — 
ms,  well,  I  may  as  well  say  out  what  I  think — that  will  be 
jolly." 

"  As  for  my  friend  Leslie  here,"  said  Harding,  "  he  has 
nothing  to  do,  and  can  certainly  ask  no  greater  pleasure  than 
to  join  you.  We  were  just  about  separating  when  we  saw 
you.  For  myself,  I  must  forego  the  pleasure,  for  I  have  the 
misfortune  to  be  a  busy  man,  and  I  must  really  wish  you  a 
hurried  good-morning,  leaving  you  in  my  friend's  care." 

With  a  promise  to  call  upon  the  ladies  at  his  earliest  con- 
venience, the  young  merchant  hurried  away,  with  every 
evidence  that  his  thoughts  were  intent  upon  the  balance  at 
his  banker's  and  the  question  whether  certain  regular 
customers  who  were  to  have  called  during  the  morning  had 
been  duly  impressed  by  his  clerks  with  the  merits  of  certain 
choice  styles  of  goods,  rapidly  on  the  rise,  that  he  would 
himself  have  commended  to  their  particular  attention.  And 
yet  there  are  odd  mixtures,  sometimes,  even  in  the  minds  of 
merchants — mixtures  in  which  customers  become  blended 
with  curls  and  profits  with  profiles  ;  for  Walter  Lane  Harding, 
as  he  wasted  yet  one  more  moment  to  step  into  Gilsey's  and 
light  a  choice  Havana,  indulged  in  a  train  of  thought  which 
might  have  been  shaped  into  words  something  in  the  manner 
following : 

"  A  pretty  woman — that  Miss  Crawford,  decidedly  lady- 
like— which  the  other  is  not,  however  pleasant  a  companion. 
I  should  as  soon  think  of  falling  in  love  with  a  handsome 
bombshell,  as  with  her.  Xo  knowing  when  she  might 
explode.  Now  if  I  had  met  Miss  Crawford  at  Newport  two 
years  ago,  who  knows  but  affairs  might  have  been  different  ? 
Heigho  1"     And  so  Walter  Harding  went  on  to  his  business; 


160  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

while  Torn  Leslie,  the  member  of  the  party  who  was 
"peckish,"  accompanied  the  two  girls,  who  were  decidedly 
hungry,  to  that  over-gilt  and  tawdry  caricature  upon  some 
of  the  palace-halls  of  the  Old  World,  known  as  "  Taylor's 
Saloon." 


CHAPTER   XL 

Some  Reflections  on  Comparative  Character  —  Of 
Houses  as  Well  as  Men — Temptation,  and  the  Le- 
gends   OF     THE     "  LURLEY"   AND     THE    "  FROZEN    HAND" 

A  Lunch  at  Taylor's,  and  an  Arrangement. 

In  the  "  great  day  of  final  assize,"  when  beneath  the  one 
unerring  Eve  and  Hand  all  the  drosses  of  life  and  circum- 
stance shall  be  melted  away  and  all  the  films  and  disfigure- 
ments removed  from  action  and  intention, — there  will  be 
many  things,  we  have  reason  to  believe,  shown  in  a  widely 
different  light  from  that  in  which  human  eyes  have  looked 
upon  them.  Human  character  will  surprise  the  beholders, 
if  it  does  not  produce  the  same  effect  even  upon  the  subject 
under  examination.  Many  a  poor  wretch  who  has  been 
stumbling  along  through  life,  unfortunate  and  apparently 
guilty,  of  no  seeming  use  either  to  himself  or  the  world,  will 
be  found  to  have  filled  a  place  of  necessity  not  suspected — to 
have  done  much  good  and  very  little  harm — and  to  have 
been  acting  from  motives  quite  as  pure  as  those  that  in  other 
hearts  have  produced  such  different  effects.  Many  a  "  good" 
man  will  be  stripped  so  bare  of  the  garments  woven  around 
him  by  circumstances  or  his  own  self-righteousness,  and  so 
many  of  his  best  deeds  will  be  proved  to  have  proceeded  from 
selfish,  interested  and  unholy  motives,  that  every  success  and 
every  word  of  past  approbation  will  be  a  reproach,  and  his 
naked  soul  will  stand  shivering  in  the  chilling  breath  of  God's 
displeasure. 


SHOULDER    STRAPS.  161 

It  is  not  exactly  certain  that  houses  will  come  to  judgment ; 
but  if  they  do,  there  will  be  the  same  marked  difference  in  the 
estimation  in  which  many  of  them  have  been  held  by  the 
community  surrounding  them,  and  the  truth  of  their  influence 
shown  in  the  "  sunlight  of  the  eternal  morning."  Some  mis- 
erable tenant-house  in  Bermondscy  or  the  Swamp,  over- 
crowded with  human"  rats,  its  atmosphere  so  noisome  that 
fever  floated  on  every  breath  and  the  passer-by  from  Belgra- 
via  or  Murray  Hill  put  his  perfumed  handkerchief  to  his  nos- 
trils to  escape  the  deadly  infection, — may  be  found  to  have 
been  far  less  injurious  to  the  neighborhood  than  the  corner- 
house  on  Park  Lane  or  the  double-front  of  brown  stone 
within  the  shadow  of  Dr.  Spring's  church  on  Fifth  Avenue. 
Within  the  one  the  miserable  occupants  may  have  festered  in 
body  and  rotted  in  soul — harming  only  themselves  and  the 
physical  atmosphere  meanwhile,  and  victims  of  the  horrible 
aggregation  of  poverty  in  great  cities  ;  while  within  the  other 
a  maelstrom  of  pleasant  dissipation  has  been  whirling,  to 
which  the  victims  came  in  their  own  carriages  with  full  liver- 
ies, the  waves  as  they  circled  sending  up  jets  of  cooling  spray 
and  redolent  of  perfumes  from  the  flowers  of  sunny  lands — 
but  continually  widening  its  circle  of  evil  attraction  and  draw- 
ing in  those  who  thenceforth  had  no  power  of  resistance 
against  the  banded  demons  of  wine,  of  play  and  of  lascivious 
enjoyment,  who  lurked  beneath  the  waters,  eager  for  their 
prey. 

The  fable  of  the  "  Lurline"  is  the  story  of  human  life  and 
temptation ;  and  yet  few  of  the  thousands  who  have  read  it 
in  the  old  German  legend  of  the  "  Lurleiberg"  or  the  charm- 
ing "  Bridal  of  Belmont"  of  the  author  of  "  Lillian,"  or  who 
have  gazed  at  it  for  hours  when  presented  upon  the  stage  in 
the  shape  of  "  Ondine"  or  the  "  Xaiad  Queen," — have  fully 
realized  its  significance.  To  most  it  has  been  merely  a  pretty 
conceit  or  an  effective  spectacle  ;  to  the  close  student  it  is  an 
absorbing  picture  of  the  enthralment  of  human  energies.  Sir 
Huldebrand  of  Kingstettin  is  a  true  as  well  as  a  valiant 
knight,  and  he  has  a  golden-haired  and  white-handed  ladie- 
love  in  the  neighboring  castle  of  the  Baron  of  Steinbrunnen. 
He  has  a  hope,  a  love,  a  faith,  a  duty ;  and  on  the  day  when 


182  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

he  fares  forth  from  Kingstettin  and  takes  his  way  to  the  river 
bank,  he  has  mirth  as  well  as  all  these,  for  Karl,  his  merry 
servant,  is  beside  him.  But  the  day  is  hot  and  sultry,  and  he 
dismounts  from  his  horse  and  lies  down  to  deep  beside  the 
Lurleiberg.  He  has  granted  himself  rest  and  indulgence. 
Half  in  his  sleep  and  half  in  his  waking  thought  he  see.-  the 
stream  rippling  below  the  banks  and"  circling  in  pleasant 
eddies  by  rock  and  mossy  edge,  while  the  water-lilies  nestle 
down  their  soft  cheeks  to  the  lapping  water  in  the  sheltered 
nooks,  and  the  willows  bend  down  and  kiss  the  stream  with 
the  swaying  tips  of  their  hundred  fingers,  and  little  gleams 
of  golden  sunshine  steal  through  the  branches  and  touch  the 
soft  ripples  here  and  there  with  such  tints  of  transparent 
light  as  the  pencil  of  painter  never  mastered.  Oh,  how  deli- 
ciously  sweet  and  dreamy  is  that  half  wakeful  feeling  of 
repose  and  indulgence!  And  then  the  music  rises — gentle 
and  almost  undistinguishable  at  first  from  the  singing  ripple 
of  the  water — then  clearer  and  more  distinct,  but  with  still  a 
tinkling  ripple  in  every  cadence,  and  the  name  of  the  listener 
insensibly  blended.  Flattery  has  come  with  indulgence,  and 
the  subtle  wine  of  its  intoxication  is  mounting  to  his  brain. 
Then  he  turns  dreamily  on  his  couch  of  moss,  and  looks  over 
the  bank  into  the  river.  Above  the  water  white  hands  are 
circling  and  snowy  bosoms  are  gleaming,  and  in  the  midst  is 
one  form  of  matchless  rounded  beauty,  with  a  face  of  angelic 
splendor,  her  eye-lids  gemmed  with  the  tear-drops  of  an 
awakened  affection,  and  her  waved  brown  hair  caressed  by 
the  tide  as  it  sweeps  backward.  All  the  white  hands  are 
beckoning  to  him,  and  all  the  coral  lips  are  uttering  those 
low  musical  wTords  in  which  his  name  is  blended.  The  brain 
of  the  knight  grows  dizzy — chains  of  which  he  only  feels  a 
pleasure  in  the  slight  pressure,  twine  around  his  limbs.  Vo- 
luptuous enjoyment  takes  the  place  of  energy — he  is  himself 
no  longer.  He  cannot  even  laugh — he  can  only  sigh — Karl 
has  gone  chasing  some  Lurline  of  his  own,  far  down  the 
meadow.  Ermengarde,  who  has  been  for  hours  leaning  out 
of  the  high  window  at  Steinbrunnen,  and  looking  anxiously 
for  her  expected  lover — is  nothing  to  him  now.  His  promised 
aid  to    Sir  Rudolph   to-morrow,  with   helm   on   brow   and 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  163 

lance  in  rest,  against  the  invader  who  threatens  the  lands 
of  both  with  ravage,  is  nothing  to  him  now.  Love  and 
duty  are  alike  forgotten.  The  temptation  has  done  its  full 
work  through  indolence  and  indulgence,  and  the  knight  is 
lcfct  The  brown-haired  Lurlinc  is  worth  all  earth  and  heaven. 
Let  all  the  rest  go,  without  a  sigh  or  a  regret — be  his  the  mur- 
mur of  the  river,  the  delicious  music  embodying  his  name, 
and  the  beckoning  of  the  white  hands  towards  him  !  He 
does  not  leap  into  the  water,  as  some  have  held :  he  merely 
bends  nearer  to  the  verge,  then  slips  down  with  eager  eyes 
and  outstretched  hands;  the  white  arms  twine  around  him; 
the  music  sounds  for  one  moment  more  sweetly  but  more 
sadly  than  ever,  as  the  waves  close  above  the  pair  so  unholily 
wedded ;  then  the  ripples  sing  on  and  all  is  quiet  beauty  as 
before — calm  and  quiet  beauty,  as  if  no  tomb  had  closed  above 
the  energies  of  a  human  soul. 

Sir  Huldebrand  may  come  back  again,  after  a  time,  as  the 
legend  is  fond  of  making  him  do.  He  may  even  marry  the 
golden-haired  Ermengarde  and  sire  children  to  heir  his  lands 
and  perpetuate  his  name.  But  the  knight  is  himself  a  wreck, 
with  all  his  best  energies  burnt  out  in  those  wierd  orgies  be- 
neath the  water ;  and  his  bridal  vow  is  a  hollow  one,  for 
when  he  utters  it  he  hears  the  shriek  of  the  Lurline  blending 
with  the  wedding  music,  and  his  nightly  couch  is  to  be  hence- 
forth a  torture  of  unrest — his  ride  by  day  a  mere  hopeless 
fleeing  from  the  ghosts  of  dead  pleasures. 

Something  of  the  same  character  is  that  other  wild  legend 
which  has  grown  into  song  and  drama — sprung  from  the 
Norse  branch  of  the  great  German  mind, — that  of  the  "  Ice 
Witch"  or  the  "  Frozen  Hand."  Here  the  Yiking  Harold  is 
less  wrecked  by  temptation  than  by  circumstance ;  but  the 
result  of  the  enthralment  is  the  same.  The  ice  of  the  Pole 
closes  around  him  with  the  same  fatality  as  the  waters  of  the 
Rhine  around  his  brother  and  prototype.  Surrounded  by 
the  white  arms  of  Hecla  in  her  palace  of  ice,  he  ceases  to 
lament  the  bride  who  is  awaiting  him  in  the  far  South  ;  and 
he  has  not  even  a  thought  of  regret  to  cast  towards  his 
perished  companions  and  the  stout  ship  that  once  bore  him 
so  proudly,  her  brown  ribs  now  bleaching  whitely  on  the 


164  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Arctic  shore.  He  too  returns,  after  a  long  period,  but  he 
brings  with  him  the  fatal  gift  of  his  Northern  bride — a  hand 
of  ice.  He  may  be  strong  and  brave  still,  as  he  was  when 
he  went  away  ;  but  he  is  no  longer  the  peerless  and  envied 
warrior.  Men  look  upon  him  with  a  ghostly  shudder,  and 
women  shrink  back  from  his  chilling  presence.  Not  even 
Freja  can  thaw  away  all  the  ice  that  has  gathered  in  his 
veins.  He  may  chastise  the  robber  Kuric  from  the  hills,  and 
sleep  once  more  in  the  warm  embrace  of  Isoldane  ;  but  who 
knows  that  at  some  midnight  hour  the  old  curse  may  not 
return  upon  him  and  the  hand  he  stretches  in  love  and  fond- 
ness strike  death  to  the  hearts  that  are  dearest  ?  Not  the 
same — changed,  changed — as  is  every  man  who  has  once 
yielded  to  the  great  temptation  of  his  existence. 

All  this,  which  may  be  purely  irrelevant  matter,  has  grown 
out  of  a  visit  paid  by  some  of  the  characters  in  this  narration, 
to  a  fashionable  restaurant  and  saloon  on  Broadway,  and  the 
belief  that  in  some  of  those  houses  temptation  is  lurking  in 
so  insidious  and  deadly  a  form  that  they  are  doing  a  thousand 
times  the  injury  inflicted  by  the  acknowledged  haunts  of  vice. 
Special  allusion  may  or  may  not  be  made  to  the  gorgeous 
but  tawdry  room  in  which  the  three  sat  down  to  discuss  their 
a  la  mode  beef,  coffee  and  biscuits.  Any  one  of  the  fashionable 
houses  to  which  ladies  habitually  resort  without  male  pro- 
tection,.for  a  noonday  lunch  when  shopping, — may  serve  as 
a  type  of  all  the  rest;  and  not  one* of  them  but  may  be 
passed  with  a  shudder,  by  husbands  who  wish  their  wives  to 
remain  like  Cesar's,  not  only  chaste  but  above  suspicion, — 
and  by  fathers  who  do  not  desire  the  peach-bloom  tt>o  early 
rubbed  off  from  the  innocence  of  their  fair  daughters. 

At  this  marble  table,  where  the  cloth  is  being  so  carefully 
spread  by  the  white-napkined  waiter  who  has  a  steaming 
cluster  of  dishes  on  a  salver  on  the  table  opposite, — there 
may  be  a  little  party,  like  that  of  our  three  friends,  dropped 
in  on  the  most  proper  of  errands — that  of  merely  procuring  a 
bit  of  lunch  in  the  midst  of  a  day  of  business,  without  going 
home  for  it  or  visiting  the  table  d'hote  at  a  hotel ;  but  at  the 
next  table  and  the  next  there  is  something  different.  Here 
sit  a  party  of  three  giddy  girls,  without  male  protection, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  165 

innocent  enough  in  their  lives  and   intentions,  but  boldly 
exposing  their  faces  to  the  rude  gaze  of  any  of  the  libertine 
diners-out  who  may  happen  to  be  at  the  tables  opposite,  and 
returning  that  gaze,  when  met,  with  a  smile  and  a  simper 
that  merely  means  scorn  and  self-confidence  but  may  be  easily 
construed   into  a  less  creditable  expression.     And  at  this 
table,  only  two  removed,  discussing  a  pate  de  foix  gras  which 
may  or  may  not  have  come  from  Strasburg  of  the  Big  Goose 
Livers,  and  washing  down  his  edibles  with  a  glass  of  liqueur 
that  fires  the  blood  like  so  much  molten  lava, — sits  a  bold- 
faced man,  fashionable  in  dress  and  perfumed  in  hair  and 
whiskers,  whose  gaze  is  that  of  the  evil  eye  upon  the  reputa- 
tion of  any  woman,  and  who  has  no  better  occupation  than 
lounging  in  any  place  of  public  resort,  to  spy  out  the  beauties 
of  female  face  and  figure  and  the  weaknesses  in  the  fortifica- 
tions that  surround  female  virtue.     And  here— at  one  of  the 
opposite  row  of  tables,  her  cup  of  coffee  and  plate  of  French 
trifles  in  pasty  just  being  set  down  before  her— here  is  a  sad- 
der spectacle  than  either.     The  wife  of  a  wealthy  merchant, 
yet  young,  beautiful  and  attractive,  but  with  a  frightened  look 
in  her  dark  eye  and  a  nervous  glancing  round  at  the  door 
every  time  it  opens,  which  too  well  reveals  her  story  to  the 
close  observer.     She  is  waiting  for  her  lover— harsh  word  in 
that  connection,  but  the  true  and  only  one ;  her  lover,  whose 
acquaintance  she  may  have  made  through  unforbidden  glances 
in  this  very  room,  ancl  whom  she  has  permitted  to  approach 
her,  slowly  but  surely,  as  the  serpent  stole  upon  Eve  in  Eden, 
until  she  has  fallen  completely  into  his  power,  losing  honor, 
self-respect,  everything  that  a  true  wife  most  values,  and  pro- 
bably supporting  the  wretch  in  a  course  of  gambling  and  dis- 
sipation, with  money  wrung  on  one  pitiable  pretext  or  other 
from  the  grudging  hand  of  her  betrayed  husband. 

It  is  enough  ! — let  the  curtain  fall.  But  oh,  heart  of  man, 
put  up  the  prayer  that  other  and  holier  lips  once  uttered  : 
"Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil !"  Ancl 
may  not  the  houses  indeed  come  into  judgment  ? 

We  have  no  concern  whatever  with  the  pleasant  small-talk 
which  floated  over  the  little  table  at  Taylor's,  from  the  lips  of 
Tom  Leslie  and  his  two  female  companions  ;  nor  is  there  any 


166  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

need  to  pause  at  this  juncture  and  remark  whether  the  strange 
glance  of  Josephine  Harris  on  being  introduced  to  the  young 
man  on  the  street,  was  repeated  or  returned.  The  trio  seemed 
to  be  a  very  happy  one,  Miss  Bell  Crawford  a  little  starched 
at  first  towards  a  man  who  had  been  flung  into  her  way  so 
ambiguously,  but  rattle-pated  Joe  firing  off  occasional 
fusillades  of  odd  sayings,  and  Tom,  the  prince  of  preux 
ehevaliers,  falling  into  the  position  of  an  old  acquaintance 
with  marvellous  rapidity.  Their  lunch  was  nearly  over, 
when  the  mischievous  face  of  Joe,  who  had  been  making 
running  comments  upon  some  of  the  people  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room,  good-naturedly  wicked  if  not  complimentary — 
lit  up  with  a  conceit  which  set  her  hazel-gray  eyes  laughing 
away  down  to  the  depths  of  her  brain.  At  the  same  moment 
the  quick  eyes  of  Bell  Crawford  saw  that  the  hand  of  .the 
merry  girl  was  rummaging  in  her  pocket,  and  her  face  became 
anxious.  Before  the  latter  could  speak,  however,  the  hand 
of  Joe  came  out  with  the  treasure  she  had  been  seeking — a 
torn  half  column,  or  less,  of  the  Herald.  The  moment  Miss 
Crawford  saw  the  slip,  her  anxiety  seemed  to  be  redoubled, 
and  she  reached  over  to  Joe,  as  if  to  take  the  paper,  with 
the  words,  half-pleading,  half-pettish  : 

"Don't,  Joe — pray  don't  !" 

"  Oh,  but  I  must  !"  said  the  mischievous  girl,  taking  care 
that  her  companion  should  not  reach  the  slip.  "  I  cannot 
think  of  throwing  away  such  an  excellent  opportunity.  I 
say,  Mr.  Leslie,  you  are  not  an  unscrupulous  destroyer  of 
female  innocence — one  of  those  dreadful  fellows  we  read 
about  in  the  books,  are  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  Joe,  I  am  ashamed  of  you  !"  said  Bell  Crawford,  and 
she  lay  back  in  her  chair,  very  near  to  a  fit  of  the  sulks. 

"Really,"  said-' Tom  Leslie,  blushing  a  little  in  spite  of 
himself,  though  without  knowing  precisely  why — "  really, 
Miss  Harris,  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  the  best  of  men,  but  I  hope 
I  do  not  deserve  any  such  terrible  appellation." 

"  There,  I  told  you  so,  Bell,  I  knew  he  wasn't !"  went  on 
the  wild  girl,  as  if  she  had  been  asking  a  solemn  question  and 
receiving  a  conclusive  answer.    "We  can  trust  him — he  says 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  167 

we  can,  and  I  am  going-  to  put  him  to  the  test  at  once.  Sup- 
pose, Mr.  Leslie,  that  a  couple  of  distressed  damsels — " 

"What  a  ninny  you  are  making  of  yourself!"  put  in  Miss 
Crawford,  in  a  tone  not  very  far  from  earnest. 

"  Suppose  that  a  couple  of  distressed  damsels,"  Josephine 
Harris  went  on,  without  heeding  her  in  the  least,  "  about  to 
pass  through  a  gloomy  and  desolate  wood,  on  the  way  to  an 
enchanted  castle,  should  appeal  to  you  to  accompany  them 
and  give  them  the  benefit  of  your  courage  and  your — yes, 
your  respectability,  in  the  adventure  ;  would  you  go  with 
them,  even  if  you  were  obliged  to  abandon  a  game  of  billiards 
and  forfeit  the  smoking  of  two  cigars  for  that  purpose  ?"  and 
she  threw  herself  back  in  her  chair,  screwed  her  face  into  the 
expression  supposed  to  belong  to  a  grand  inquisitor,  and 
waited  for  a  reply. 

"  I  would  do  my  devoir  like  a  true  knight,"  said  Leslie, 
making  a  mock  bow  over  the  table,  with  his  hand  on  his 
heart,  "even  if  I  forfeited  thereby  not  only  two  cigars  but 
four  and  the  playing  of  two  whole  games  of  billiards." 

"Generous  knight!"  said  Joe,  still  preserving  her  melo- 
dramatic tone,  "we  trust  you — we  enlist  you  into  our  ser- 
vice, 'for  three  years  or  during  the  war!'  Read!"  and  she 
solemnly  handed  over  the  slip  of  paper,  on  which  Leslie  per- 
ceived the  following  advertisement,  marked  around  with 
black  crayon,  and  under  the  general  head  of  "Astrology": — 

"  rpHE  STARS  HAVE  SAID  IT!  MADAME  ELISE  BOUTELL, 
J.  from  Paris,  whom  the  stars  favor  and  to  whom  the  secrets 
of  the  unknown  world  are  revealed,  may  be  consulted  on  any  of 
the  great  events  of  life,  at  No.  —  Prince  Street,  near  the  Bowery, 
every  day,  between  10  A.M.  and  0"  P.M.  Let  ignorance  be  ban- 
ished, and  let  the  light  of  the  world  unknown  dawn  on  the  dark- 
ened minds.  Persona  who  attempt  deception  in  visiting  Madame 
Boutell,  will  find  all  disguise  unavailing;  but  all  confidences  are 
safe,  as  strict  secrecy  is  observed." 

"Well?"  added  Leslie,  looking  up  inquiringly,  after  read- 
ing the  mysterious  announcement. 

"  Well  ?"  said  the  mad  girl,  mimicking  him.  "Is  that  all 
the  effect  it  produces  upon  you  ?  Do  your  knees  not  shake 
and  does  not  your  hair  start  up  on  end  when  you  think  of  it, 
so  that  your  hat — if  your  hat  was  not  unfortunately  hung 


168  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

upon  the  hook  yonder,  would  require  to  be  held  on  by  main 
force  ?" 

"How  can  you  be  so  absurd  ?"  suggested  Bell,  who  really 
feared  that  the  pronounced  behaviour  of  her  friend  might 
draw  too  much  attention  to  their  table,  as  there  was  indeed 
some  danger  of  its  doing. 

"Bah!"  said  Joe,  "I  couldn't  be  absurd!  I  was  'never 
absurd  in  my  life,'  as  Sir  Hartcourt  Courtley  says.  But  Mr. 
Leslie  ! — what  have  I  said  ?  You  look  pale — ill !"  and  the 
face  of  the  young  girl  tamed  instantly  to  an  expression  of 
genuine  alarm,  not  at  all  unwarranted  by  the  circumstances. 
The  face  of  Tom  Leslie  had  indeed  undergone  a  sudden 
change.  His  usual  ruddy  cheek  seemed  ghastly  white,  his 
eyes  stared  glassily,  and  there  was  a  quick  convulsive  shiver 
running  over  his  frame  which  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  either 
of  his  two  companions.  The  kind  heart  of  Josephine  Harris 
at  once  hit  upon  a  solution  for  the  otherwise  strange  specta- 
cle. She  had  said  some  awkward  word — touched  some  hid- 
den and  painful  chord  connected  with  past  suffering  or  expe- 
rience ;  and  she  felt  like  having  her  tongue  extracted  at  the 
root  for  the  commission  of  such  a  blunder. 

What  was  the  cause  of  this  sudden  emotion  ?  The  expla- 
nation may  not  be  so  difficult  to  any  thoughtful  reader  of  this 
story  as  it  was  to  the  two  young  girls  who  sought  it.  Tom 
Leslie  had  merely  read  over  the  mendacious  advertisement, 
at  first,  with  the  same  indifference  given  to  thousands  of  cor- 
responding humbugs ;  and  at  the  first  reading  he  had  not  noticed 
the  place  at  all.  At  the  second  reading,  his  mind  took  in  the 
direction:  "  No.  —  Prince  Street,  near  Bowery,"  and  at  the 
same  moment  he  comprehended  the  words,  "  Madame  Elise 
Boutell,  from  Pa?*is."  Tom  Leslie  was  every  thing  else  than 
a  coward  ;  and  yet  he  had  shuddered  before  at  the  sight  and 
the  memory  of  the  "red  woman:"1  he  whitened  and  shud- 
dered now.  What  if  another  meeting  with  that  mysterious 
woman  was  at  hand  ? — if  the  scenes  of  the  Rue  la  Reynie 
Ogniard  were  about  to  be  re-enacted  ?  The  French  name 
and  the  words  "from  Paris,"  the  place,  which  seemed  to  him 
undoubtedly  the  same  of  his   adventure  with    Harding — all 


SHOULDEK-STKATS.  169 

made  up  a  presumption  of  identity  that  was  for  the  moment 
overwhelming. 

But  those  who  show  surprise  or  emotion  quickest  are  not 
slowest  to  recover  from  its  effects.  Whatever  he  felt,  nothing 
more  was  to  be  shown  the  two  ladies.  Reaching  for  a  glass 
of  ice-water  standing  upon  the  table,  Leslie  drank  the  whole 
of  it  off  at  a  draught,  and  the  electric  shock  at  once  restored 
the  tone  to  his  system  and  brought  back  the  red  blood  to  his 
face.     With  a  laugh  he  said  : 

"  I  really  beg  ten  thousand  pardons  for  alarming  you,  but 
these  slight  attacks  are  constitutional,  and  they  need  not  cause 
the  least  fear.  That  is  over,  and  I  am  as  well  as  ever.  What 
was  it  you  were  saying,  Miss  Harris  ?" 

11  Thank  heaven  that  you  are  better  !"said  the  kind-hearted 
girl.  "I  was  really  for  the  instant  apprehensive  that  some- 
thing I  had  said  might  have  awakened  some  painful  recollec- 
tion. I  was  trying  to  get  you,  at  that  moment,  to  under- 
stand the  terrible  significance  of  this  advertisement." 

"Well,"  said  Leslie,  laughing,  "what  am  I  to  understand  ? 
That  you  have  been  testing  the  skill  of  this  seeress,  or  that 
you  are  about  to  do  so  ?" 

11  There  you  go  I"  said  Joe  Harris.  "  Now  you  are  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fence  !  Excuse  my  similes,  but  I  have  not 
always  been  cooped  up  in  this  humdrum  city — I  occasionally 
pay  visits  to  the  country.  A  moment  ago  you  grew  pale  at 
the  name  of  the  mighty  Madame  Boutell,  whose  cognomen 
sounds  a  good  deal  like  the  Yankee  '  doo  tell !'  I  admit ;  and 
now  you  are  laughing  at  her!"  The  young  girl  had  by  this 
time  recovered  from  her  good-natured  anxiety  and  regained 
her  habitual  vivacity,  and  she  rattled  on  to  the  great  edifica- 
tion of  her  auditors,  and  happily  without  attracting  any  ad- 
ditional notice  from  the  people  at  the  other  tables.  "Yes, 
sir,  Miss  Crawford  and  myself  are  about  to  consult  this  modest 
exponent  of  the  mysteries  of  the  stars,  though  about  what 
we  have  not  the  least  idea,  /have  not,  at  least;  have  you, 
Bell  r 

"  Not  the  ghost  of  an  idea,"  was  the  answer  of  Miss  Craw- 
ford. 

"Ghost  is  good,  in  that  connection,"  rattled  on  the  y>y 


170  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

girl.  "  You  see  I  have  never  yet  consulted  a  fortune-teller, 
and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  soon  be  too  old  to  do  it  to  advan- 
tage. I  lost  my  faith  in  Santa  Claus,  a  good  many  years 
ago,  and  long  before  my  stocking  was  too  big  to  hang  up  ; 
and  I  cried  over  the  discovery  for  a  fortnight  Suppose  I 
should  lose  my  faith  in  fortune-telling  before  I  ever  had  any 
experience  in  that  direction — wouldn't  it  be  dreadful  ?" 

"  But  why  this  lady  in  particular  V*  asked  Leslie,  who  was 
at  the  moment  studying-  a  theme  which  no  man  knows  more 
about  to-day  than  was  known  in  the  days  of  Aristotle — 
that  of  chances  and  coincidences. 

"  Oh,"  said  Joe,  fumbling  in  her  pocket  for  other  slips,  and 
drawing  them  out  and  exhibiting  them  with  great  gravity,  to 
the  infinite  amusement  at  least  of  Leslie.  "  Oh,  1  have  been 
preparing  myself,  and  found  the  best.  Here- is  a  'Madame 
R.,?  who  has  'just  arrived  in  the  city  and  taken  a  room  ac 
No.  7  Pickle  Place.'  That  would  never  do,  you  see.  'Taken 
a  room'  is  too  suggestive  of  limited  accommodations  and  no 
carpet  on  a  very  dirty  stair.  Then  here  is  another,  in  whicn 
1  Madame  Francena  Guessberg'  promises  to  '  give  information 
about  absent  friends'  and  to  '  show  the  faces  of  future  hus- 
bands.' Most  of  my  friends  who  are  absent  I  never  wish  to 
hear  of  again  ;  and  as  to  the  husbands,  I  shall  see  them  all 
soon  enough,  if  not  too  soon." 

"  Hem  !"  said  Leslie,  though  scarcely  knowing  why  he 
made  that  comment. 

"  That  is  all,"  continued  the  wild  girl.  "  All  the  rest  arc 
insignificant  or  impossible,  except — no,  here  is  one  who 
promises  to  'call  names.'  Now  if  there  is  any  thing  in  the 
world  that  I  don't  like  except  when  I  do  it  myself,  it  is  '  call- 
ing names.'  And  now  see  Madame  Boutell.  There  is  noth- 
ing of  the  petty  or  the  insignificant  about  her.  She  has  the 
'stars'  at  command,  and  is  about  to  open  the  '  unknown  wond.' 
She  is  the  woman,  of  course  !  Knows  all  about  the  'gieat 
events'  of  life.  Can't  be  humbugged,  and  keeps  a  secret  *s  a 
steel-trap  holds  a  rat.  And  now.  will  you  go  with  us,  and 
protect  us,  and — Mr.  Harding  said  you  were  a  newspaper 
man, — will  you  take  down  a  full,  true  and  circumstahtial 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  171 

account  of  all  that  occurs  ?  That  is  what  I  have  been  trying 
to  get  at  for  this  quarter  of  an  hour.     Will  you  go  with  us  ?" 

"You  are  going  to-day,  then  ?"  asked  Leslie. 

"  Miss  Harris  insisted  upon  my  accompanying  her,  and  I 
half  consented  to  do  so,"  said  Miss  Bell  Crawford,  apologeti- 
cally. 

"Fiddlestick  !"  said  the  merry  riddle.  "  Don't  try  to  beg 
out  of  it,  Miss  Bell  !  She  sent  her  carriage  home,  Mr.  Leslie, 
so  that  we  need  not  be  seen  going  there  with  it ;  and  there 
we  were  going,  two  lovely  and  unprotected  females,  when 
providence  raised  up  a  champion  in  the  person  of  our  new 
friend. " 

"  Who  hopes  yet  to  be  an  old  friend,  and  who  will  go  with 
you,  with  the  greatest  pleasure,"  said  Leslie.  "  At  the  same 
time" — reflecting  a  moment — "  at  the  same  time  I  must  be 
as  prudent  about  myself,  for  certain  reasons,  which  I  will 
explain  some  day  if  you  wish  it — as  Miss  Crawford  has  been 
about  her  carriage.  Oblige  me  by  remaining  at  the  table  here 
and  trifling  with  some  creams,  chocolate  and  a  few  bon-bons, 
while  I  leave  you  for  a  few  minutes — not  more  than  fifteen  or 
twenty.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  shall  be  ready  to  accom- 
pany you." 

Giving  the  necessary  orders  and  throwing  a  bill  to  the 
waiter,  Tom  Leslie  passed  rapidly  out  into  the  street  and 
walked  quite  as  rapidly  up  Broadway,  until  he  turned  again 
down  Broome  Street,  which  he  had  quitted  with  Harding 
but  a  little  while  before.    Had  he  more  to  do  with  the  Police  ? 


11 


172  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Fortune-telling  and  other  Superstitions — The  every- 
day Omens  that  we  half  believe — Origins  of  this 
Weakness — Fortune-tellers  of  New  York,  Boston 
and  Washington. 

While  Tom  Leslie  has  gone  around  to  Broome  Street  on 
his  undeclared  errand,  and  while  the  ladies  are  making  an 
excuse  to  while  away  the  time  until  his  return,  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  after-dinner  provocatives  to  indigestion  recom- 
mended, let  us  enter  a  little  more  closely  upon  a  subject 
merely  indicated  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  and  then  sneered 
at  by  at  least  one  of  the  conversationists — that  of  the  for- 
tune-telling imposition  which  so  largely  prevails,  especially 
in  the  great  cities,  and  the  general  course  of  human  supersti- 
tion in  connection  with  it. 

It  may  be  set  down,  as  a  general  principle,  that  every  man 
is  more  or  less  superstitious — that  is,  impressed  with  idea-  and 
omjens  which  go  beyond  the  material  world  and  bid  utter  de- 
fiance to  reason.  Every  woman  is  certainly  so.  It  is  not 
less  undeniable,  meanwhile,  that  nearly  every  man  and  wo- 
man denies  this  fact  of  their  natures  and  considers  the  mere 
allegation  to  be  an  insult.  Oftenest  from  the  fear  of  ridicule, 
but  sometimes,  no  doubt,  because  any  discussion  of  the  matter 
is  deemed  improper, — few  acknowledge  this  peculiarity  of  na- 
ture, even  to  their  most  intimate  friends  :  some,  who  must  be 
aware  that  they  possess  it,  deny  it  even  to  themselves.  The 
subject  is  set  down  as  contraband,  universally,  unless  when  the 
weakness  of  a  third  party  is  to  be  ridiculed,  or  a  personal  free- 
dom from  the  superstition  asserted  ;  and  yet  this  very  silence 
and  the  boasting  are  both  suspicious.  Xo  man  boasts  so  much 
over  his  own  wealth  as  he  who  has  little  or  none  ;  and  no  man 
is  so  silent,  except  under  the.  influence  of  great  excitement,  as 
he  who  has  a  great  thought  oppressing  him  or  a  great  fear  con- 
tinually tugging  at  his  heart-strings.  The  most  hopeless  dis- 
believers in  the  Divine  Being,  that  can  possibly  be  met,  are 
those  who  seldom  or  never  enter  into  a  eontroversy  on  the 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  173 

subject ;  and  the  least  assured  is  he  who  oftenest  enters  into 
controversy,  perhaps  for  the  purpose  of  strengthening  his  own 
belief.  There  are  Captain  Barecolts,  of  course,  who  go  bravely 
into  battle  after  venting  boasts  that  seem  to  stamp  them  as 
arrant  cowards,  and  who  come  out  pf  the  conflict  with  stories 
staggering  all  human  comprehension  ;  but  these  cases  are  rare, 
and  they  do  not  go  beyond  the  recmisite  number  of  exceptions 
to  justify  the  rule. 

Perhaps  the  most  general  of  the  ordinary  superstitions  of 
the  country  is  the  indefinable  impression  that  the  catching  a 
first  sight  of  the  new  moon  over  the  right  shoulder  ensures 
good  fortune  in  the  ensuing  month,  while  a  first  glance  of  it 
over  the  left  is  correspondingly  unlucky.  (It  may  be  said,  in 
a  parenthesis,  that  the  fast  phrase,  "  over  the  left,"  so  preva- 
lent during  the  past  few  years,  to  indicate  the  reverse  of  what 
has  just  been  spoken,  has  its  derivation  from  the  impression 
that  such  an  untoward  sinister  glance  may  neutralize  all 
effort  and  bring  notable  misfortune.)  Of  a  hundred  men  in- 
terrogated on  this  point,  ninety-five  will  assert  that  they  hold 
no  such  superstition,  and  that  they  have  never  even  thought 
of  the  direction  in  which  they  first  saw  the  new  moon  of 
any  particular  month.  And  yet  of  that  ninety-five,  the 
chances  are  that  ninety  are  in  the  habit  of  taking  precautions 
to  meet  the  young  crescent  in  the  proper  or  lucky  manner,  or 
of  indulging  in  a  slight  shudder  or  feeling  of  unpleasantness 
when  they  realize  that  they  have  accidentally  blundered  into 
the  opposite. 

Next  in  prevalence  to  this,  may  be  cited  the  superstition 
that  any  pointed  article,  as  a  knife,  a  pin,  or  a  pair  of  scis- 
sors, falling  accidentally  from  the  hand  and  sticking  direct  in 
the  floor  or  the  carpet,  indicates  the  coming  of  visitors  during 
the  same  day,  to  the  house  in  which  the  omen  occurred. 
Hundreds  and  even  thousands  of  housewives,  not  only  the 
ignorant  but  the  more  intelligent,  immediately  upon  witness- 
ing or  being  informed  of  such  an  important  event,  make  pre- 
paration, on  the  part  of  themselves  and  their  households,  if 
any  are  felt  to  be  necessary,  for  the  reception  of  the  visitors 
who  are  sure  to  arrive  within  the  time  indicated  by  the  omen. 
Some,  but  not  so  ninny,  add  to  this  the  superstition  that  the 


174  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

involuntary  twitching  of  the  eye-lid  or  itching  of  the  eye- 
brow indicates  the  coming  of  visitors  in  the  same  manner ; 
and  many  a  projected  absence  from  the  house  is  deferred  by 
our  good  ladies,  from  one  or  another  of  these  omens  and  the 
impression  that  by  absence  at  that  particular  time  they  ma- 
lose  the  opportunity  of  seeing  valued  friends. 

Next  in  generality,  if  not  even  entitled  to  precedence  of  the 
last,  is  the  superstition  that  the  gift  of  a  knife  or  any  sharp 
article  of  cutlery,  is  almost  certain  to  produce  estrangement 
between  the  giver  and  the  receiver — in  other  words,  to  "  cut 
friendship."  Ridiculous  as  the  superstition  may  appear,  there 
is  scarcely  one  of  either  sex  who  does  not  pay  some  respect 
to  it ;  and  of  one  thousand  knives  that  may  happen  to  be 
transferred  between  intimate  friends  (and  lovers)  it  is  safe  to 
say  that  not  less  than  nine  hundred  and  ninety  have  the  omen 
guarded  against  by  a  half  playful  demand  and  acceptance  of 
some  small  coin  in  return,  giving  the  transfer  some  slight 
fiction  of  being  a  mercantile  transaction.  The  statistics  of 
how  many  loves  or  friendships  have  really  been  severed  by 
non-attention  to  this  important  precaution,  might  be  some- 
what difficult  to  compile,  and  the  attempt  need  not  be  made 
in  this  connection. 

Thousands  of  musically  inclined  young  ladies  have  serious 
objections  to  singing  before  breakfast,  quoting,  not  altogether 
jocularly,  the  proverb  that  "  one  who  sings  before  breakfast 
will  cry  [weep]  before  night,"  which  no  doubt  had  its  origin 
in  a  proverb  derived  from  the  Orientals,  that 

"  The  bird  which  singeth  in  the  early  morn, 
Ere  night  by  cruel  talons  ■will  he  torn." 

Not  less  unaccountable,  and  yet  impressive,  are  some  of 
the  superstitions  connected  with  marriage,  death,  and  the  de- 
parture of  friends.  A  belief  very  generally  prevails  that 
when  a  couple  enter  a  church  to  be  married,  if  the  bride  steps 
at  all  in  advance  of  the  bridegroom,  he  will  be  found  an  un- 
willing and  unfaithful  husband  ;  while  if  the  opposite  should 
happen  to  be  the  order  of  precedence,  even  by  a  few  inches, 
the  marriage  tie  will  prove  a  happy  and  long-enduring  one. 
The  belief  that  the  bridal  hour  should   occur   during  clear 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  175 

weather,  is  perhaps  a  natural  one,  and  derived  from  well- 
understood  natural  laws  affecting  the  physical  systems  of 
those  entering'  into  such  intimate  relations  ;  but  the  super- 
stition goes  further  and  considers  sunshine  on  the  bridal  day 
a  specific  against  all  the  possible  ills  of  matrimonial  life. 
This  feeling  supplies  half  of  a  doggrel  couplet  which  came 
to  us  from  the  Saxons,  and  which  blends  marriage  and  burial 
somewhat  singularly  : — 

"  Happy  is  the  bride  that  the  sun  shines  on  ; 
And  blessed  is  the  corpse  that  the  rain  rains  on." 

There  are  thousands  of  persons  who  have  objections  to 
counting  the  number  of  carriages  at  a  funeral,  from  the  super- 
stition that  the  one  who  does  so  will  very  soon  be  called  to 
attend  a  funeral  at  home  ;  and  the  same  objection  exists  to  put- 
ting on,  even  for  a  moment,  any  portion  of  a  mourning  garb 
worn  by  another,  under  the  impression  that  the  temporary 
wearer  will  in  some  way  be  influenced  to  wear  mourning  very 
soon  for  some  lost  relative.  No  doubt  fifty  other  and  similar  su- 
perstitions connected  with  death  and  burial  might  be  adduced, 
even  without  alluding  to  those  of  more  frightful  import  and 
now  very  little  regarded,  which  belong  more  peculiarly  to 
the  Eastern  world,  and  which  inculcate  the  leaving  open  of  a 
window  at  the  moment  of  death,  to  allow  the  unrestrained 
flight  of  the  passing  soul,  and  reprobate  the  leaving  of  any 
open  vessel  of  water  in  the  vicinity  of  the  death-chamber,  in 
the  fear  that  the  disembodied  spirit,  yet  weak  and  untried  of 
wing,  may  fall  therein  and  perish  ! 

One  more  superstition,  connected  with  the  departure  of 
friends,  must  be  noted — the  more  peculiarly  as  there  is  a  sad 
beauty  in  the  thought.  Very  many  nervous  and  excitable 
people  fear  to  look  after  those  who  are  going  away  on  long 
journeys  or  dangerous  enterprises,  under  the  fear  that  such 
a  look  after  them  may  prevent  their  return.  One  peculiar 
instance  of  the  indulgence  of  this  superstition,  and  its  appa- 
rent fulfilment,  happens  to  have  fallen  under  notice,  during 
the  present  struggle.  When  the  President's  first  call  for 
volunteers  was  made,  among  those  who  responded  was  one 
young  lad  of  eighteen,  a  mere  handsome  boy  in  appearance 
and  altogether  delicate  in  constitution,  who  left  a  comfortable 


176  S1I  OU  LDER-STKAI'S. 

position  to  fulfil  what  he  believed  to  be  a  stem  duty.     He  had 

two  female  cousins,  of  nearly  his  own  age,  and  with  whom 
he  had  been  in  close  intimacy.  Going-  away  hurriedly,  with 
little  time  to  bestow  on  farewells,  he  called  to  bid  them  good- 
bye one  dark  and  threatening  night.  Some  tears  of  emotion 
were  shed,  and  the  sad  farewell  was  spoken.  When  In- 
passed  down  the  walk,  both  the  cousins  stood  without  the 
door  and  watched  his  figure  as  it  grew  dimmer  and  disap- 
peared  in  the  dusk  of  the  distant  street.  When  they  returned 
to  the  cheerfulness  of  the  lighted  room,  the  younger  burst 
into  tears. 

"  "We  have  doomed  him,"  she  said.  "  We  watched  him 
when  he  went  away,  and  looked  after  him  as  long  as  he 
could  be  seen.  He  will  never  come  back.  His  young  life 
will  fade  out  and  disappear,  just  as  we  saw  him  fading  away 
in  the  darkness. " 

A  month  later  the  young  soldier  was  dead  ;  and  something 
more  than  ordinary  reasoning  will  be  necessary  to  persuade 
the  two  cousins — the  younger  and  more  impressive,  espe- 
cially— that  their  gazing  after  him  did  not  cast  an  evil  omen  on 
his  fate  and  a  blight  upon  his  life.  Another  near  relative 
has  since  gone  away  on  the  same  patriotic  errand  ;  but  when 
the  farewells  were  spoken  in  the  lighted  room,  the  two  girls 
escaped  at  once  and  hid  themselves  in  another  apartment,  so 
that  they  should  not  even  see  him  disappear  through  the 
door.  When  last  heard  from,*  fever  and  bullet  had  yet 
spared  him  ;  and  what  more  is  needed  to  make  the  two 
young  girls  hopelessly  superstitious  for  life,  at  least  in  this 
one  regard  ?  They  are  not  the  only  persons  who  have  seen 
and  felt  that  fading  out  in  the  darkness  as  an  omen ;  for  the 
same  observer  who  once  stood  on  the  bluff  at  Long  Branch, 
as  a  heavy  night  of  storm  was  closing,  and  saw  the  "  Star  of 
the  West"  gradually  fade  away  and  disappear  into  that 
threatening  storm  and  darkness — unconscious  that  she  was 
to  emerge  again  to  play  so  important  a  part  in  the  drama  of 
the  nation's  degradation, — the  same  observer  saw  the  same 
omen  at  Xiblo's  not  long  ago,  when  the  poor  Jewess  of  Miss 

*  February  1st,  1863. 


S  If  O  U   i  1)  E  li  -  S*T  B  A  F  s.  177 

Bateman's  wonderful  "  Leah"  fell  back  step  by  step  into  the 
crowd,  as  the  curtain  was  dropping,  her  last  hope  withered 
and  her  last  duty  done,  and  nothing  remaining  but  to  "  fol- 
low on  with  my  people." 

And  at  all  such  times  Proserpine  comes  back,  as  she  may 
have  cast  wistful  glances  towards  the  vanishing  home  of  her 
childhood,  when  the  rude  hands  of  the  ravishers  were  bear- 
ing her  away  from  the  spot  where  she  was  gathering  flowers 
in  the  vale  of  Enna ;  and  we  think  of  Orpheus  taking  that 
fatal,  wistful  last  look  back  at  Eurydice,  with  the  thought  in 
his  eyes  that  could  not  give  her  up  even  for  a  moment,  when 
emerging  to  the  outer  air  from  the  flames  and  smoke  of  Tar- 
tarus. Wistful  glances  back  at  all  we  have  lost  are  embo- 
died ;  and  all  these  long,  agonizing  appeals  of  the  eye  against 
that  fate  of  separation  which  cannot  be  longer  combated  with 
tongue  or  hand,  are  made  over  again  for  our  torture. 

It  has  been  said  that  some  persons  endeavor  to  deceive 
themselves  with  reference  to  their  holding  any  belief  in 
omens  and  auguries.  And  some  of  those  who  by  position 
and  education  should  be  lifted  above  gross  errors,  are  quite 
as  liable  as  others  to  this  self-deception.  Quite  a  large  circle 
of  prominent  persons  may  remember  an  instance  in  which  a 
leading  Doctor  of  Divinity,  renowned  for  his  strong  common- 
sense  as  well  as  beloved  for  his  goodness,  was  joining  in  a 
genera]  conversation  on  human  traits  and  oddities,  when  one 
of  the  company  alluded  to  popular  superstitions  and  acknow- 
ledged that  he  had  one,  though  only  one — that  of  the  "  moon 
over  the  shoulder."  Another  confessed  to  another,  and  still 
another  to  another,  while  the  Doctor  "  pished"  and  "pshawed" 
at  each  until  he  made  him  heartily  ashamed  of  his  confession. 
The  man  of  the  lunar  tendencies,  however,  had  a  habit  of 
bearding  lions,  clerical  as  well  as  other,  and  he  at  last  turned 
on  the  Doctor. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  no  superstitions  what- 
ever, Doctor?"  he  asked. 

"  Xone  whatever,"  said  the  Doctor,  confidently. 

"You  have  no  confidence  in  supernatural  revelations  in 
any  relation  of  life  ?"  pursued  the  questioner. 

"  Xone  whatever/'  repeated  the  Doctor. 


178  SHO  I'LDER-STKA  I\S. 

"And  )'ou  never  act — try,  now,  if  you  please,  to  remember — 
you  never  act  under  impression  from  any  omen  that  does  not 
appeal  to  reason,  or  are  made  more  or  less  comfortable  by 
the  existence  of  one  ?  In  other  words,  is  there  no  occurrence 
that  ever  induces  you  to  alter  your  course  of  action,  when 
that  occurrence  has  nothing'  whatever  to  do  with  the  object 
in  view,  and  when  you  can  give  no  such  explanation  to  your- 
self as  you  would  like  to  give  to  the  outside  world,  for  the 
feeling  or  the  change  ?"' 

"  There  is  nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  the  Doctor  to  this 
long  question.  Then  he  suddenly  seemed  to  remember — 
paused,  and  colored  a  little  as  he  went  on.  "  I  acknowledge 
my  error,  gentlemen,"  he  said.  "I  have  a,  superstition,  though 
I  never  before  thought  of  it  in  the  light  of  one.  I  am  ren- 
dered exceedingly  uncomfortable,  and  almost  ready  to  turn 
back,  if  a  cat,  dog  or  other  animal  chances  to  run  across  the 
way  before  me,  at  the  moment  when  I  am  starting  upon  any 
journey." 

The  laugh  which  began  to  run  round  the  company  was  po- 
litely smothered  in  compliment  to  the  good  Doctor's  candor ; 
but  the  fact  of  a  universal  superstition  of  some  description  or 
other  was  considered  to  be  very  prettily  established. 

But  the  conversation  did  not  end  here  ;  and  one  who  had 
before  borne  little  part  in  it — a  man  of  some  distinction  in 
literary  as  well  as  political  life, — was  drawn  out  by  what  had 
occurred,  to  make  a  statement  with  reference  to  himself  which 
exhibited  another  phenomenon  in  supernaturalist  belief — a 
man  who  not  only  had  a  superstition  and  acknowledged  it, 
but  could  give  a  reason  for  holding  it. 

"Humph  !"  he  said,  "some  of  you  have  superstitions  and 
acknowledge  them  without  showing  that  you  have  any 
grounds  for  your  belief;  and  the  Doctor,  who  has  also  a 
superstition,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  aware  of  it  before. 
Now  J  am  a  believer  in  the  supernatural,  and  I  have  had 
cause  to  be  so." 

"  Indeed !  and  how  ?"  asked  some  member  of  the  com- 
pany. 

"  As  thus,"  answered  the  believer.  "  And  I  will  tell  you 
the  story  as  briefly  as  I  can  and  still  make  it  intelligible, — 


SllOL'LDEU-STRArS.  179 

from  the  fact  that  a  severe  head-ache  is  the  inevitable  penalty 
of  telling;  it  at  all.  I  resided  in  a  country  section  of  a  neigh- 
boring State,  some  twenty  years  ago  ;  and  about  three  miles 
distant,  in  another  little  hamlet  of  a  dozen  or  two  houses, 
lived  the  young  lady  to  whom  I  was  engaged  to  be  married. 
My  Sundays  were  idle  ones,  and  as  I  was  busy  most  of  the 
week,  I  generally  spent  the  afternoon  of  each  Sunday,  and 
sometimes  the  whole  of  the  day,  at  the  house  of  my  expectant 
bride,  whom  I  will  call  Gertrude  for  the  occasion.  I  kept  no 
horse,  and  habitually  walked  over  to  the  village.  I  had  never 
ridden  over,  let  it  be  borne  in  mind,  as  that  is  a  point  of  in- 
terest. I  very  seldom  rode  anywhere,  and  Gertrude  had 
never  seen  me  on  horseback. 

"  It  happened,  as  I  came  out  from  my  place  of  boarding, 
one  fine  Sunday  afternoon  in  mid-winter,  that  one  of  the 
neighbors,  who  kept  a  number  of  fine  horses,  was  bringing  a 
couple  of  them  out  for  exercise.  They  were  very  restive, 
and  he  complained  that  they  stood  still  too  much  and  needed 
to  have  the  spirit  taken  out  of  them  a  little.  I  laughingly 
replied  that  if  he  would  saddle  one,  I  would  do  him  that 
favor ;  and  he  threw  the  saddle  on  a  very  fast  running-mare, 
and  mounted  me.  Accordingly,  and  of  course  from  what  ap- 
peared a  mere  accident,  I  rode  over  to  the  place  of  my  des- 
tination. 

"  There  was  a  small  stable  behind  the  house  occupied  by  the 
family  of  my  betrothed,  across  a  little  garden-lot,  and  I  rode 
round  the  house  without  dismounting,  to  care  for  my  horse. 
As  I  passed  the  house,  I  saw  Gertrude  standing  at  the  door, 
and  looking  frightfully  ill  and  pale.  I  hurried  to  the  stables, 
threw  the  saddle  from  my  horse,  and  returned  instantly  to  the 
house.  Gertrude  met  me  at  the  door,  threw  herself  into  my 
arms  (a  demonstration  not  habitual)  and  sobbed  herself  al- 
most into  hysterics  and  insensibility.  I  succeeded  in  calming 
her  a  little,  and  she  then  informed  me  of  the  cause  of  her  be- 
havior. She  was  frightened  to  death  at  seeing  me  come  on 
horseback ;  and  the  reason  she  gave  for  this  was  that  the 
night  before  she  had  dreamed  that  I  came  on  horseback — 
that  her  brother,  a  young  man  in  mercantile  business  a  few 
miles  away,  also  came  on  horseback  (his  usual  habit) — and 


1 80  SHOULDEU-STUAl'  B. 

that  while  her  brother  and  myself  were  riding  rapidly  to- 
gether, I  was  thrown  and  his  horse  dashed  out  my  brains 
with  his  hoof-  ! 

"  Here  was  a  pleasant  omen,  or  would  have  been  to  a  be- 
liever in  the  supernatural ;  but  I  belonged  to  the  opposite 
extreme.  I  laughed  at  Gertrude's  fears,  and  finally  succeeded 
in  driving  them  away,  though  with  great  difficulty,  by  the  in- 
formation that  her  brother  had  gone  W.est  the  day  before  and 
could  not  possibly  be  riding  around  in  this  seetion,  seeking 
my  life  with  a  horse-shoe.  She  was  staggered  but  not  satis- 
fied— I  could  see  that  fact  in  her  eye.  Still  she  shook  off  the 
apparent  feeling,  and  we  joined  the  family.  Half  an  hour 
after,  her  brother  rode  up  and  stabled  his  horse — he  having 
been  accidentally  prevented  leaving  for  the  West  as  arranged. 
At  this  new  confirmation  of  her  fears,  very  flattering  to  me 
but  very  inconvenient,  Gertrude  fell  into  another  fit  of  fright- 
ened hysterics ;  nothing  being  said  to  any  of  the  members 
of  the  family,  however.  I  succeeded  in  chasing  away  this 
second  attack,  with  a  few  more  kisses  and  a  little  less  scolding 
than  before.  With  the  lady  again  apparently  pacified,  we 
rejoined  the  company,  and  the  evening  passed  in  music  and 
conversation.  The  shadow  did  not  entirely  leave  the  face  of 
Gertrude,  and  she  watched  me  continually.  For  myself,  I 
had  no  thought  whatever  on  the  subject,  except  sorrow  for 
her  painful  hallucination. 

"  At  about  ten  o'clock,  the  brother  rose  to  go  for  his  horse, 
and  I  accompanied  him  to  look  after  mine  but  not  to  go  home, 
for  the  "  courting"  hours — the  dearest  of  all — were  yet  to 
come.  At  the  stable,  as  he  was  mounting,  we  talked  of  the 
speed  of  his  horse  and  of  the  one  I  rode  ;  and  he  bantered 
me  to  mount  and  ride  with  him  a  mile.  There  was  a  splendid 
stretch  of  smooth  road  for  a  couple  of  miles  on  his  way,  and 
without  a  moment's  thought  of  Gertrude  I  threw  the  saddle 
on  my  horse  and  rode  away  with  him,  the  people  at  the  house 
being  altogether  unaware  that  I  had  gone  farther  than  to  the 
stables. 

"  I  have  no  idea  what  set  us  to  horse-racing  on  that  Sunday 
night ;  but  race  we  did.  Both  horses  had  good  foot  and  the 
road  was  excellent,  though  the  night  was  dusky.     Before  we 


S1I0  U  L  DEll-STKAPS.  lbl 

had  gone  half  a  mile  we  were  going  at  top  speed.  When  we 
reached  the  end  of  the  hard  road  he  was  a  little  ahead,  and  I 
banteringly  called  to  him  to  'repeat.'  He  wheeled  at  once, 
and  away  we  went  like  the  wind.  From  turning  behind,  T 
had  a  little  the  start,  and  kept  it.  Perhaps  we  were  fifty 
yards  from  the  house,  when  my  mare  stepped  on  a  stone,  as 
I  suppose,  and  went  down,  throwing  me  clear  of  the  stirrups, 
up  in  the  air  like  a  rocket,  and  down  on  my  head  like  a  spile- 
driver.  I  of  course  lay  insensible  with  a  crushed  skull ;  and 
the  brother  was  so  near  behind  and  going  at  such  speed  that 
he  could  not  have  stopped,  even  if  he  had  known  what  was 
the  matter. 

"  Noise — lights — confusion.  Gertrude  bending  over  me  in 
hysteric  screams— so  they  told  me  afterwards.  Part  of.  the 
hair  was  gone  from  one  side  of  my  head,  dashed  off  by  the 
foot  of  the  brother's  horse,  that  had  just  thus  narrowly  missed 
dashing  out  my  few  brains.  That  is  all,  gentlemen.  The 
dream-prophecy  was  fulfilled  within  that  hair's-breadth 
(excuse  the  bad  pun),  by  a  succession  of  circumstances  that 
were  not  arranged  by  human  motion  and  could  not  have 
been  expected  from  anything  in  the  past ;  and  until  some 
.one  can  explain  or  reason  away  the  coincidence,  I  shall  not 
give  up  my  belief  that  dreams  are  sometimes  revelations." 

Perhaps  it  is  idle  to  enter  upon  any  speculations  as  to  the 
origin  of  these  superstitions  in  the  human  mind;  as  they 
may  almost  be  held  to  be  a  part  of  nature,  having  a  corre- 
sponding development  in  all  countries  and  all  ages.  Some 
of  the  worst  and  most  injurious  of  superstitions — those  which 
involve  the  supposed  presence  of  the  dead,  of  haunting  spec- 
tres and  evil  spirits,  destroying  the  nerves  and  paralyzing 
the  whole  system — unquestionably  hare  much  of  their  origin 
in  the  "  bug-a-boo"  falsehoods  told  to  children  by  foolish 
mothers  and  careless  nurses,  to  frighten  them  into  "  being 
good."  Thousands  of  men  as  well  as  women  never  recover 
from  the  effects  of  these  crimes  against  the  credulous  faith 
of  childhood — for  they  are  no  less.  Then  there  are  particular 
passages  in  our  literature,  sacred  and  profane,  which  do 
their  share  at  upholding  the  belief  in  the  supernatural,  espe- 
cially as  connected  with  the  uninspired  foretelling  of  future 


182  SllUULDEK-STKAFS. 

events — "fortune-telling."  The  case  of  the  Witch  of  Endor 
and  her  invocation  of  the  spirit  of  Samuel,  which  is  given  in 
Holy  Writ  as  an  actual  occurrence  and  no  fable,  of  courtofe 
takes  precedence  of  all  others  in  influence;  and  the  super- 
stitious man  who  is  also  a  religionist,  always  has  the  one  un- 
answerable reply  ready  for  any  one  who  attempts  to  n 
away  the  idea  of  occult  knowledge  :  "Ah,  but  the  Witch  of 
Endor  :  what  will  you  do  with  her  ?  If  the  Bible  is  true — 
and  you  would  not  like  to  doubt  that — she  was  a  wicked 
woman,  not  susceptible  to  prophetic  influences,  and  yet  she 
did  foretell  the  future  and  bring  up  the  spirits  of  the  dead. 
If  this  was  possible  then,  why  not  now  ?" 

From  the  church  we  pass  to  the  theatre,  and  from  the 
Book  of  all  Books  to  that  which  nearest  follows  it  in  the  sub- 
limity of  its  wisdom — Shakspeare.  No  one  doubts  "  Hamlet" 
much  more  than  the  First  Book  of  Samuel,  and  yet  the  play 
is  altogether  a  falsehood  if  there  is  no  revelation  made  to  the 
Prince  of  the  guilt  of  his  Uncle  ;  and  the  spiritual  character 
of  the  revelation  is  not  at  all  affected  by  the  question  whether 
Hamlet  saw  or  thought  he  saw  the  ghost  of  his  murdered 
father.  Again  comes  "  Macbeth,''  and  though  we  may  allow 
Banquo's  ghost  to  be  altogether  a  diseased  fancy  of  the. 
guilty  man's  brain,  yet  the  whole  story  of  the  temptation 
is  destroyed  unless  the  witches  on  the  blasted  heath  really 
make  him  true  prophecies  for  false  purposes.  These  sub- 
lime fancies  appeal  to  our  eyes,  and  through  the  eyes  to  our 
beliefs,  night  after  night  and  year  after  year;  and  if  they 
do  not  create  a  superstition  in  any  mind  previously  clear  of 
the  influence,  they  at  least  prevent  the  disabuse  of  many  a 
mind  and  preserve  from  ridicule  what  would  else  be  con- 
temptible. 

It  was  with  reference  to  fortune-telling  especially  that  this 
discussion  of  our  predominant  superstitions  commenced ; 
and  this  indefensibly  episodical  chapter  must  close  with  a 
mere  suggestion  as  to  the  extent  to  which  that  imposition  is 
practised  in  our  leading  cities.  Very  few,  ^t  may  be  sus- 
pected, know  how  prevalent  is  this  superstition  among  us — • 
quite  equivalent  to  the  gipsy  palmistry  of  the  European 
countries.     Of  very  late   years   it  has   principally  become 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  183 

"  spiritualism'1  and  the  fortune-tellers  are  oftener  known  as 
"  mediums"  than  by  the  older  appellation;  and  scarcely  one 
of  the  impostors  but  pretends  to  physic  the  body  as  well  as 
cure  the  soul ;  but  the  old  leaven  runs  through  all,  and  all 
classes  have  some  share  in  the  speculation.  Sooty  negresses, 
up  dingy  stairs,  are  consulted  by  ragged  specimens  of  their 
own  color,  as  to  the  truth  of  the  allegation  that  too  much 
familiarity  has  been  exercised  by  an  unauthorized  "  culled 
pusson"  towards  a  certain  wife  or  husband, — or  as  to  the 
availability  of  a  certain  combination  of  numbers  in  a  fifty 
cent  investment  at  that  exciting  game  known  as  "  policies" 
or  "  4-11-44,"  ere  while  the  peculiar  province  of  that  Honor- 
able gentleman  who  (more  or  less)  wrote  "  Fort  Lafayette." 
And,  per  contra,  more  pretentious  witches  (the  women  have 
monopolized  the  trade  almost  altogether,  of  late  years)  are 
consulted  by  fair  girls  who  come  in  their  own  carriages,  as 
to  the  truth  or  availability  of  a  lover  or  the  possibility  of 
recovering  lost  affections  or  stolen  property.  How  many  of 
those  seeresses  are  "  mediums"  for  the  worst  of  communi- 
cations, or  how  many  per  centum  of  the  habitues  of  such 
places  go  to  eventual  ruin,  it  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  chap- 
ter to  inquire. 

There  are  three  recognized  "  centres"  in  the  loyal  States- 
each  a  city,  and  supposed  to  be  an  enlightened  one.  Xew 
York,  the  commercial,  monetary  and  even  military  centre ; 
Boston,  the  literary  and  intellectual ;  and  Washington,  the 
governmental  and  diplomatic.  Taking  up  at  random  the 
first  three  dailies  of  a  certain  date,  at  hand — one  from  each 
of  the  three  cities  —  the  following  regular  advertisers  are 
shown,  quoting  from  each  of  the  three  "  astrology"  columns 
and  omitting  the  directions. 

Xew  York  :  eleven.  No.  1.—"  Madame  Wilson,  a  bona- 
fide  astrologist,  that  every  one  can  depend  on.  Tells  the 
object  of  your  visit  as  soon  as  you  enter ;  tells  of  the  past, 
present  and  future  of  your  life,  warns  you  of  danger,  and 
brings  success  out  of  the  most  perilous  undertakings.  N.  B. 
—Celebrated  magic  charms."  No.  2.— "  Madame°  Morrow, 
seventh  daughter,  has  foresight  to  tell  how  soon  and  how  often 
you  marry,  and  all  you  wish  to  know,  even  your  thoughts,  or 


184  s  ii  o  r  L  i)  e  R  -  a  T  R  a  p  s. 

no  pay.  Lucky  charms  free.  Her  magic  image  is  now  in 
full  operation."  Xo.  3. — "The  Gipsey  Woman  has  just  ar- 
rived. If  you  wish  to  know  all  the  secrete  of  your  past  and 
future  life,  the  knowledge  of  which  will  save  you  years  of 
sorrow  and  care,  don't  fail  to  consult  the  palmist."  Xo.  4. — 
"  Cora  A.  Seaman,  independent  clairvoyant,  consults  on  all 
subjects,  both  medical  and  business;  detects  diseases  of  all 
kinds  and  prescribes  remedies  :  gives  invaluable  advice  on  all 
matters  of  life."  Xo.  5. — "Madame  Ray  is  the  best  clair- 
voyant add  astrologist  inthecity.  She  tellsyour  very  thoughts, 
gives  lucky  numbers,  and  causes  speedy  marriages."  Xo.  G. — 
"  Madame  Clifford,  the  greatest  living  American  clairvoyant. 
Detects  disease.-,  pn  scribes  remedies,  finds  absent  friends, 
and  communes  clairvoyantly  with  persons  in  the  army." 
Xo.  T. — "  Madame  Estelle,  seventh  daughter,  can  be  con- 
sulted on  love,  marriage,  sickness,  losses,  business,  lucky 
numbers  and  charms.  Satisfaction  guaranteed."  Xo.  8. — 
"  Mrs.  Addie  Banker,  medical  and  business  clairvoyant,  suc- 
cessfully treats  all  diseases,  consults  on  business,  and  gives 
invaluable  advice  on  all  matters  of  life."  Xo.  9. — "Who  has 
not  heard  of  the  celebrated  Madame  Prewster,  who  can  be 
consulted  with  entire  satisfaction  ?  She  has  no  equal.  She 
tells  the  name  of  future  wife  or  husband — also  that  of  her 
visitor."  Xo.  10. — "The  greatest  wonder  in  the  world  is  the 
accomplished  Madame  Byron,  from  Paris,  who  can  be  con- 
sulted with  the  strictest  confidence  on  all  affairs  of  life.  Re- 
stores drunken  and  unfaithful  husbands ;  has  a  secret  to  make 
you  beloved  by  your  heart's  idol;  and  brings  together  those 
long  separated."  Xo.  11. — "  Madame  YTidger,  clairvoyant  and 
gifted  Spanish  lady ;  unveils  the  mysteries  of  futurity,  love, 
marriage,  absent  friends,  sickness ;  prescribes  medicines  For 
all  diseases  ;  tells  lucky  numbers,  property  lust  or  stolen,  &c." 
Boston :  thirteen.     Xo.  1. — u  The  great  astrologer. 

"  Tlie  road  to  wedlock  would  you  know, 
Delay  not,  but  to  Baron  go. 
A  happy  marriage,  man  or  maid, 
May  be  secured  by  Baron's  aid. 

u  He  will  reveal  secrets  no  living  mortal  ever  knew.   Xo  charge 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  185 

for  causing  speedy  marriages  and  showing  likenesses  of  Mends." 
No.  2. — "Astonishing  to  all  !  Madame  Wright,  the  celebrated 
astrologist,  burn  with  a  natural  gift  to  tell  all  the  events  of 
your  life,  even  your  very  thoughts  and  whether  you  are 
married  or  single;  how  many  times  you  will  marry;  will 
show  the  likeness  of  your  present  and  future  husband  and 
absent  friends;  will  cause  speedy  marriages  ;  tells  the  object 
of  your  visit.  Her  equal  is  not  to  be  found — has  astonished 
t  housands  by  her  magic  power."  No.  3. — "  Madame  F.  Gretz- 
buxg  will  ensure  to  whoever  addresses  her,  giving  the  year  of 
their  birth  and  their  complexion,  a  correct  written  delineation 
of  their  character,  and  a  statement  of  their  past,  present  and 
future  lives.  All  questions  regarding  love,  marriage,  absent 
friends,  business,  or  any  subject  within  the  scope  of  her  clear, 
discerning  spiritual  vision,  will  be  promptly  and  definitely 
answered  *  *  so  far  as  she  with  her  great  and  wonderful 
prophetic  and  perceptive  powers,  can  see  them."  No.  4. — 
"  Prof.  A.  F.  Huse,  seer  and  magnetic  physician.  The  Pro- 
fessor's great  power  of  retrovision,  his  spontaneous  and  lucid 
knowledge  of  one's  present  life  and  affairs,  and  his  keen  fore- 
casting of  one's  future  career,"  etc.  No.  5. — "  Mrs.  King  will 
reveal  the  mysteries  of  the  past,  present  and  future,  and  de- 
scribe absent  friends,  and  is  very  successful  in  business  mat- 
ters. Also  has  an  article  that  causes  you  good  luck  in  any 
undertaking,  whether  business  or  love,  and  can  be  sent  by 
mail  to  any  address."  No.  C>. — "Mrs.  Frances,  clairvoyant, 
describes  past,  present  and  forthcoming  events,  and  all  kinds 
of  business  and  diseases.  Has  medicines,"  etc.  No.  7. — 
"Prof.  Lyster,  astrologer  and  botanic  physician."  No.  8. — 
"  Madame  Wilder,  the  world-renowned  fortune-teller  and  in- 
dependent clairvoyant  *  *  *  is  prepared  to  reveal  the 
mysteries  of  the  past,  present  and  future."  No.  9. — "  Madame 
Iloussell,  independent  clairvoyant,  is  prepared  to  reveal  the 
mysteries  of  the  pact,  present  and  future."  No.  10. — "  Madame 
Jerome  Nurtnay,  the  celebrated  Canadian  seeress  and  natural 
clairvoyant,  *  *  will  reveal  the  present  and  future."  (This 
one  clairvoyant,  it  will  be  observed,  has  no  past.)  No.  11. — 
"  Mrs.  Yah,  clairvoyant  and  healing  medium  *  *  will  ex- 
amine and  heal  the  sick,   and  also  reveal   business  affairs, 


186  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

describe  absent  friends,  and  call  names.  Has  been  very  suc- 
cessful in  recovering  stolen  property.''  No.  12. — "Madame 
Cousin  Cannon,  the  only  world-renowned  fortune-teller  and 
independent  clairvoyant,"  etc.  No.  13.  —  "Madame  Mont 
*  *  would  like  to  be  patronized  by  her  friends  and  the 
public,  on  the  past,  present  and  future  events." 

Washington:  nine.  Xo.  1. — "  Madame  Ross,  doctress  and 
astrologist.  Was  born  with  a  natural  gift — was  never  known 
to  fail.  She  can  tell  your  very  thoughts,  cause  speedy  mar- 
riages, and  bring  together  those  long  separated."  Xo.  2. — 
"  Mrs.  L.  Smith,  a  most  excellent  test  and  healing  medium  *  * 
sees  your  living  as  well  as  deceased  friends,  gets  names,  reads 
the  future."  Xo.  3. — (Here  we  have  the  first  male  name,  as 
well  as  apparently  the  most  dangerously  powerful  of  all). 
"  Mons.  Herbonne,  from  Paris.  Clairvoyant,  seer  and  for- 
tune-teller. Reads  the  future  as  well  as  the  past,  and  has 
infallible  charms.  Can  cast  the  horoscope  of  any  soldier 
about  going  into  battle,  and  foretell  his  fate  to  a  certainty." 
Xo.  4. — "  Madame  Bushe,  powerful  clairvoyant  and  innu 
encing  medium.  Has  secrets  for  the  obtaining  of  places  de- 
sired under  government,  and  love-philters  for  those  who  have 
been  unfortunate  in  their  attachments."  Xos.  5,  6,  7,  8  and 
9  differing  not  materially  from  those  before  cited  as  able  to 
read  the  past,  present  and  future,  re-join  the  parted  and  in- 
fluence the'  whole  future  life. 

And  here,  as  by  this  time  Tom  Leslie  must  certainly  have 
accomplished  his  business  in  Broome  Street,  and  Joe  Harris 
and  Bell  Crawford  sipped  and  eaten  themselves  into  an  in- 
digestion at  Taylor's — this  examination  of  a  subject  little 
understood  must  cease,  to  allow  the  three  to  carry  out  their 
projected  folly.  But  really  how  much  have  superior  educa- 
tion and  increasing  intelligence  done  to  clear  away  the  grossest 
of  impositions  and  to  discourage  the  most  audacious  experi- 
ments upon  public  patience  ?  And  yet — what  shall  be  said 
of  the  facts — uncolored  and  undeniable  facts— narrated  in  a 
subsequent  chapter  ? 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  187 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Ten  Minutes  at  a  Costumer's — How  Tom  Leslie  grew  sud- 
denly Old — Joe  Harris'  speculation  on  "  Those  Eyes  " 
— Another  Surprise,  and  what  followed. 

Mr.  Tom  Leslie's  visit  was  not  to  the  Police  headquarters 
in  Broome  Street,  albeit  he  turned  down  that  street  from 
Broadway  when  he  reached  it  after  leaving  the  two  ladies  at 
Taylor's.  He  took  the  other  or  upper  side  of  the  street,  and 
stopped  immediately  opposite  the  Police  building,  at  a 
fafro-story  brick  house  whereon  appeared  the  name  of  "R. 
"Williams"  in  gilt  letters,  and  a  little  lower,  "Ball  Costumer," 
and  in  the  two  first  floor  windows  of  which,  over  a  basement 
set  apart  for  the  use  of  persons  in  need  of  bad  servants  and 
servants  in  search  of  worse  places — appeared  such  a  col- 
lection of  distorted  human  faces  that  a  general  execution  by 
the  guillotine  seemed  to  have  been  going  on,  with  all  the 
heads  hung  up  against  the  glass  to  dry.  The  ghastly  faces 
were,  in  fact,  those  of  papier-mache  masks,  waiting  for  cus- 
tomers desirous  of  a  certain  amount  of  personal  disfigure- 
ment, whether  on  the  stage  or  in  the  masked  ball ;  and  be- 
hind one  row  of  them  could  be  seen  the  glitter  of  an  imita- 
tion coat  of  mail  which  looked  very  much  like  the  real  article 
at  a  distance,  but  would  have  been  of  about  as  much  use  to 
keep  out  sword-point  or  lance-head  in  the  tourneys  of  the 
olden  time,  as  so  much  cobweb  or  blotting  paper. 

Within  the  inner  door  of  the  costumer's,  which  Leslie  en- 
tered hurriedly,  might  have  been  gathered  the  spoils  of  all 
ages  and  all  kingdoms,  taking  tinsel  for  gold  and  stuff  for 
brocade.  The  robes  and  mantles  of  queens  hung  suspended 
from  the  walls,  blended  here  and  there  with  suits  of  beaded 
and  fringed  Indian  leather,  odd  coats  and  trousers  for  ex- 
aggerated Jonathans,  and  diamonded  garments  of  motley  for 
clowns.  Around  on  the  floor,  on  two  sides  of  the  apartment, 
lay  heaps  of  garments  of  all  incongruous  descriptions,  from 
the  court  dress  of  King  Charles'  time  to  the  tow  and  home- 
spun of  the  Southern  darkey,  as  if  just  tumbled  over  for 
12 


188  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

examination.  A  few  stage  swords  and  spears  and  two  or 
three  suits  of  armor  of  suspicious  likeness  to  block-tin,  oc- 
cupied one  of  the  back  corners  ;  while  suspended  from  pegs 
and  arranged  upon  shelves  were  false  beards,  wigs  and  ey#- 
brows,  preposterous  noses,  Indian  head-dresses  of  feathers, 
hats  of  Italian  bandits  wreathed  with  greasy  ribbons,  and 
crowns  and  coronets  of  all  apparent  values,  from  that  flashing 
with  light  which  Isabella  might  have  worn  when  all  the  gold 
and  gems  of  Columbus'  new  world  lay  at  her  disposed,  to  the 
thin  band  of  gold  with  one  gem  in  the  centre  of  the  front, 
which  some  virgin  princess  might  modestly  have  blushed 
under  on  her  wedding  day.  Through  the  half-open  door 
leading  to  the  adjoining  apartment  in  the  rear,  still  other 
treasures  of  costume  run  mad  were  discoverable  ;  until  the 
thought  was  likely  to  strike  the  observer  that  "  R.  "Williams, 
Costumer,"  had  been  the  happy  recipient  of  all  the  cast-off 
clothes,  hirsute  as  well  as  sartorial,  dropped  by  half  a  dozen 
generations  ranging  from  king  to  clod-hopper. 

A  short,  dark-whiskered,  sallow  man  came  forward  as 
Leslie  entered,  addressing  him  by  name,  with  an  inquiry 
after  his  wishes. 

"  I  want  a  disguise,"  said  Leslie — "  particularly  a  disguise 
of  the  face,  and  one  that  can  deceive  the  sharpest  of  eyes." 

The  costumer  looked  at  his  face  for  a  moment.  "  I  can 
make  you  up,"  he  said,  "  so  that  your  best  friend — or  what 
is  of  more  difficulty,  the  woman  who  loved  you  best  or  hated 
you  worst — wouldn't  know  you." 

"  That  is  it,"  said  Leslie.  "  Xow  be  quick,  like  a  good 
fellow,  for  I  have  only  live  minutes." 

"You  will  not  need  to  change  your  pants,  I  think,"  said 
the  costumer.  "  Throw  off  your  coat — here  is  one  that  will 
button  close  and  hide  your  vest,  and  I  think  you  will  find  it 
about  your  size.  Yours  is  a  gray — this  is  a  dark  brown  and 
rather  a  genteel  garment,  and  will  suit  the  gray  pants." 

Leslie  threw  off  his  coat  and  put  on  the  brown  substitute, 
which  fitted  him  very  respectably. 

"  That  is  enough  in  the  way  of  clothes,  I  should  think," 
remarked  the  costumer,  unless  you  should  be  dodging  a  very 
sharp  woman,  or  one  of  Kennedy's  men." 


BHO  ULDEK-b  TRAPS.  189 

"It  is  a  sharp  woman  I  am  trying  to  dodge,"  said  Leslie, 
with  a  laugh,  "  but  I  think  she  will  know  very  little  about 
my  clothes.  The  face — the  face  is  the  thing  !  Make  me  op 
so  that  you  don't  know  me — so  that  I  won't  know  myself — 
so  that  my  wife,  if  I  had  one,  would  scream  for  a  policeman 
if  I  attempted  to  kiss  her." 

"  Yes,  the  face — that  is  what  we  are  coming  to,"  replied 
the  costumer.  "  You  have  a  moustache  already.  That  we 
cannot  very  well  cut  off,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  if  I  know  it !"  graphically  but  somewhat  inelegantly 
said  Tom,  who  had  one  of  his  many  prides  hidden  away  some- 
where in  the  flowing  sweep  of  that  ornament  to  the  upper 

up. 

"  Then  we  must  gray  it !"  said  the  costumer.  "  No  ob- 
jection to  looking  a  little  older  ?" 

u  Make  me  as  old  as  Dr.  Parr  or  old  Galen's  head,  if  you 
like,"  was  the  answer.  "  Only  be  quick,  for  the  sauciest  and 
best-looking  girl  in  New  York  is  waiting  for  me." 

"  To  run  away  and  be  married  ?  eh  ?"  asked  the  costumer, 
as  he  went  to  a  shelf  and  took  down  a  cup  of  some  prepara- 
tion very  like  paint,  and  with  it  a  brush.  "None  of  my 
business,  though  !  Hold  still,  and  never  mind  the  smell. 
It  will  be  dry  in  two  minutes,  and  water  will  not  touch  it, 
but  you  can  clean  it  out  at  once  with  turpentine."  He  ap- 
plied the  mixture  to  Leslie's  moustache,  the  member  over  it 
being  drawn  up  considerably  at  times  as  if  the  bouquet  of  one 
of  Hackley's  summer  gutters  was  rising ;  but  in  less  than 
two  minutes,  as  the  costumer  had  said,  the  smell  ceased,  the 
mixture  was  dry,  and  Tom  Leslie  had  a  moustache  grayish- 
white  enough  to  have  belonged  to  Sulpizio. 

"Beautiful!"  said  the  costumer,  handing  the  subject  a 
small  mirror  from  the  wall.  "  The  hair  and  beard  directly. 
Now  for  a  complexion  old  enough  to  suit  such  a  facial  orna- 
ment." In  a  moment,  he  had  a  small  cup  of  brown  paint, 
with  a  camel's-hair  brush,  and  was  operating  on  Leslie's 
forehead  and  cheeks,  artistically  throwing  in  a  few  wrinkles 
on  the  former  and  neatly  executed  crows-feet  under  the  eyes, 
in  water-colors  that  dried  a^  soon  as  applied.  Leslie,  by  the 
aid  of  a  glass,  saw  himself  getting  old,  a  little  more  plainly 


190  SHO  0  LDER-STR  APS. 

than  most  of  us  recognize  the  ravages  made  on  our  faces  by- 
time. 

"By  George  !"  he  said.  "  Stop  ! — hold  on  ! — don't  make 
those  crows-feet  any  plainer,  or  I  shall  begin  to  get  weak  in 
the  back  and  shaky  in  the  knees,  and  you  will  need  to  sup- 
ply me  with  a  cane." 

"  They  will  come  off  easier  than  the  next  ones  painted 
there,  probably!"  commented  the  philosophical  costumer,  us 
he  finished  painting  up  his  human  sign.  "And  now  for  the 
finishing  stroke  !"  He  stepped  to  a  drawer,  took  out  a  gray 
full-bottom  beard,  fitted  it  neatly  to  the  chin,  clasped  the 
springs  back  of  the  ears,  added  to  it  a  gray  wig,  made  easy* 
fitting  by  the  short  hair  on  the  head,  and  once  more  handed 
Leslie  the  glass. 

The  young  man  looked.  The  last  vestige  of  youth  had  de- 
parted, and  he  appeared  as  he  might  have  expected  to  do 
thirty  years  later  when  he  had  touched  sixty  and  gone  on 
downward. 

"Capital!"  he  said — "capital!  If  any  man,  or  woman, 
knows  me  behind  this  disguise,  there  is  some  reason  beyond 
nature  for  their  doing  so.  There — throw  me  a  hat — any- 
thing unlike  my  own — for  I  have  already  remained  too  long1. 
I  will  see  you  again  some  time  this  evening."  Handing  the 
costumer  a  bill,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  taken  such  ac- 
commodations before  and  knew  what  they  cost,  Leslie  put 
on  a  respectable  looking  speckled  Leghorn  hat  brought  from 
the  back  room,  took  one  more  glance  at  his  metamorphosis  in 
the  glass,  and  passed  hurriedly  out  into  the  street  and  down 
Broadway  towards  Taylor's. 

To  return  to  that  place  for  a  few  moments,  after  Tom  Les- 
lie had  left  it  and  before  he  was  again  heard  from. 

Josephine  Harris  sat  for  perhaps  five  minutes  after  the 
chocolate  was  brought,  toying  with  the  spoon  and  the  cup,  a 
little  consciously  red  in  face,  and  saying  never  a  word — an 
amount  of  reticence  quite  as  unusual  for  her,  as  ice  in  sum- 
mer. Bell  Crawford  made  two  or  three  remarks,  and  she 
answered  them  with  "  Ah  !"  and  "  Humph  !"  till  the  other 
pouted  a  little  sullenly  and  said  no  more. 

At  length  the  wayward  girl  shoved  aside  her  cup,  stopped 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  191 

nibbling  a  bon-bon,  planted  one  elbow  on  the  table,  leaned 
her  chin  on  her  hand,  and  looked  her  companion  full  in  the 
face  with  a  comic  earnestness  that  was  very  laughable. 

"  Bell,"  she  said,  "  I  am  gone  !" 

"  Gone  ?"  asked  the  other.     "  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

11  Sent  for — done  up — wilted — caved  in — and  any  other  de- 
scriptive words  that  may  happen  to  be  in  the  language  !"  was 
tin1  reply. 

"  What  ails  you  ?  Are  you  crazy  ?"  was  the  not  unnatural 
inquiry  of  Bell. 

"  Crazy  ?  No  I"  answered  the  wild  girl.  "  I  wonder  if  I 
ever  shall  be  !"  and  for  the  instant  her  eyes  were  very  sad,  as 
if  some  painful  thought  had  been  touched.  But  the  instant 
after  sunshine  broke  into  them  again,  as  she  said,  making  a 
motion  of  her  hand  towards  the  door  : — 

"That's  he/" 

Bell  Crawford  looked,  but  did  not  see  any  one,  and  the 
fact  rather  added  to  her  impression  that  Miss  Josey  had  sud- 
denly taken  leave  of  her  senses.  "  Who's  he?  I  don't  see 
him  !"  she  replied. 

"  Pshaw  !  how  stupid  you  are  !"  said  Josey,  pettishly. 
"  See  here.  Let  me  tell  you  something.  Do  you  remember 
one  day,  five  or  six  weeks  ago,  when  I  came  into  your  house 
a  little  in  a  hurry,  with  a  bunch  of  violets  for  Dick  ?" 

('  Yes,"  said  Bell,  "  I  remember  it,  by  the  fact  that  you 
nearly  pulled  off  the  bell-handle  because  the  door  was  not 
opened  quick  enough." 

"  Right,"  said  Joe,  as  if  she  had  been  complimented  by  the 
observation.  "  That's  me.  If  Betty  doesn't  answer  the  bell 
a  little  quicker,  some  of  these  times,  you  will  find  that  piece 
of  silver-plating  at  a  junk-shop,  sold  for  old  iron.  Well,  do 
you  happen  to  remember  what  I  told  you  and  Dick  on  that 
occasion  ?" 

"  Oh,  good  gracious,  no  !"  exclaimed  Bell  provokingly. 
7  Surely  you  can't  expect  me  to  keep  any  account  of  what 
you  say  in  the  course  of  a  month.  Stop,  though — I  do  re- 
member something.  Yon.  said,  I  believe,  that  coming  up  Madi- 
son Avenue  you  found  the  bunch  of  violets  carrying  a  small 


192  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

boy — or  the  other  way  ;  and  that  at  the  same  time  you  found 
a  hat — wasn't  it  a  hat  ?" 

"  Bah  I"  said  Joe.  "  You  have  kept  hold  of  the  wrong  end 
of  the  story,  of  course.  I  said  that  just  as  I  met  the  small 
boy  with  the  violets  and  their  perfume  began  to  set  me  crazy 
and  make  me  think  of  being  out  in  the  country  among  the 
laughing  brooks  and  the  singing  birds  and  the — yes,  the  cows 
and  the  chickens — that  just  then  some  one  else  met  the  small 
boy  and  the  violets.  That  was  the  proprietor  of  the  • 
and  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  outrageous  hat  I  should  have 
had  a  full  view  of  them.  As  it  was.  they  nearly  spoiled  my 
peace  of  mind  altogether,  and  I  have  been  sighing  ever  since 
— Heigho  ! — haven't  you  heard  me  sighing  all  around  in  odd 
corners  ?" 

14  What  a  goose  !"  was  the  complimentary  reply  of  Bell. 
"If  you  have  sighed,  the  sound  was  very  much  like  that  of 
loud  talking  and  laughter.  But  what  has  all  that -to  do  with 
to-day,  and  why  were  you  pointing  towards  the  door?" 

"  Why,  you  ninny, "  cried  Joe,  in  response  to  the  "  goose" 
compliment  just  passed — "  that  man  who  has  just  left  us — 
that  man  who  is  coming  back  in  a  moment — is  the  owner  of 
the  eyes ;  and  those  eyes  are  my  destiny  !" 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  Bell,  "  I  did  not  see  anything  remarkable 
about  the  eyes,  or  the  man." 

"  Didn't  you,  now  £"  said  Josephine,  with  the  least  bit  in 
the  world  of  pique  in  her  voice.  "  Well,  that  is  the  fault  of 
you?'  eyes,  and  not  of  his.  I  tell  you  those  eyes  are  my 
destiny — I  feel  it  and  know  it.  I  have  not  seen  a  pair  before 
in  a  long  while,  that  looked  as  if  they  could  laugh  and  make 
love  at  the  same  time,  and  still  have  a  little  lightning  in 
reserve  for  somebody  they  hated.  Mr.  Tom  Leslie — well,  it 
is  a  rather  pretty  name,  and  I  think  I  must  take  him." 

"  For  shame,  Joe  !"  said  Miss  Bell,  her  propriety  really 
shocked  at  the  idea  of  a  young  girl  declaring  herself,  even  in 
jest,  in  love  with  a  man  who  had  said  nothing  to  justify  the 
preference. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  is  all  wrong  !"  said  Joe,  between  a 
sigh  and  a  laugh.  "You  know  I  have  heen  doing  wrong 
things  all  my  life,  and  anything  else  would  not  be  natural. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  193 

Do  you  remember,  Bell,"  and  her  dark  eyes  had  an  expression 
of  demure  fan  in  them  that  was  irresistibly  droll — "  do  you 
remember  how  I  left  all  my  trunks  unlocked  and  my  room 
door  open,  at  the  Philadelphia  hotel  when  we  were  stopping 
there  one  winter  on  our  way  from  Washington, — and  how  I 
left  my  purse  on  the  bureau  in  my  room  and  grabbed  a 
gentleman  by  the  arm  in  the  street,  accusing  him  of  picking 
my  pocket  V 

"  I  do  remember,"  said  Bell,  a  little  with  the  air  of  a  very 
proper  Mentor  who  was  not  in  the  habit  of  making  corre- 
sponding blunders.  "  And  I  should  think,  Joe,  that  now  that 
you  are  a  little  older  you  w^ould  be  a  little  more  careful  I" 

"  Yes,  I  daresay  you  do,"  answered  Miss  Josey,  "  but  you 
know  that  I  am  myself  and  nobody  else.  I  should  stagnate 
and  die  in  a  week,  if  I  was  either  one  of  those  '  wealthy 
curled  darlings'  kept  in  exact  position  by  the  possession  of 
too  many  thousands,  or  so  hemmed  by  more  confined  worldly 
circumstances  that  I  dared  not  take  one  step  without  stop- 
ping to  consider  the  consequences.  Hang  propriety  ! — I  hate 
propriety  !  Now  you  have  it,  and  you  may  eat  it  with  that 
last  wafer !" 

"  How  you  do  run  on  !"  merely  remarked  Bell,  who  pro- 
bably enjoyed  the  wild  girl's  conversation  quite  as  much  as 
she  was  capable  of  enjoying  anything. 

"Yes,"  said  Joe,  "  and  I  should  like  to  know  any  reason 
for  stopping,  at  least  before  our  impressed  beau  comes  back. 
Has  he  gone  off  to  make  arrangements  with  the  fortune- 
teller, I  wonder,  so  as  to  play  a  trick  upon  us  when  we  get 
there  ?" 

"  Eh,"  said  Bell,  a  little  startled,  "  could  such  a  trick  be 
possible  1" 

"  Yery  possible,  my  dear  !"  said  Joe.  "  I'll  warrant  such 
things  have  been  done,  and  my  gentleman  looks  just  mis- 
chievous enough.  But  no — he  would  not  dare  do  such  a 
thing,  for  he  could  see  with  half  an  eye  that  if  he  did  I  should 
one  day  pay  him  for  it !" 

"  If  you  ever  had  a  chance  !"  remarked  Bell  with  some 
approach  to  a  sneer. 

"  Oh,"  said  Joe.     "  Trust  me  for  that  1     Didn't  I  just  tell 


194  SHOULDER-STRAP?. 

you  that  I  had  half  made  up  my  mind  to  take  him  ?  and  if  I 
should,  you  know,  I  should  have  plenty  of  time  to  bring  him 
into  the  proper  subjection." 

"  How  do  you  know  but  he  may  be  married  ?"  asked  Bell, 
who  had  a  little  more  forethought  than  Miss  Joe  in  certain 
directions. 

"  Humph  !"  said  Joe,  "  that  would  be  awkward,  especially 
as  I  am  not  quite  ready,  yet,  for  an  elopement  and  the  sub- 
sequent nattering  paragraphs  in  the  papers,  about  '  the  beau- 
tiful and  accomplished  Miss  J.  H.'  having  left  for  Europe  on 
the  last  steamer  from  Boston,  in  company  with  '  the  popular 
journalist  but  sad  Lothario,  Mr.  T.  L.,  who  has  left  an 
interesting  wife  and  two  children  to  deplore  the  departure 
of  the  husband  and  father  from  the  paths  of  rectitude.' " 

u  Well,  you  are  incorrigible  I"  laughed  Miss  Crawford, 
fairly  carried  away  by  the  irresistible  current  of  the  wild 
girl's  humor.  "  How  can  you  talk  so  flippantly  of  things  so 
deplorable  ?" 

"  I  scarcely  know,  myself !"  was  the  answer.  "  But  there 
is  really  a  dash  of  romance  about  such  things,  which  almost 
makes  them  endurable.  Poor  Mrs.  Brannan  made  a  mess 
of  it,  to  be  sure,  coming  out  at  last  with  a  ruined  character 
and  the  widow  of  a  man  several  ranks  lower  in  the  army 
than  the  husband  from  whom  she  had  run  away ;  but  was 
there  not  something  chivalrous  in  TYvman  coming  back  at 
once  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  war,  and  sending  an  offer  to 
the  man  he  had  injured,  to  afford  him  any  satisfaction  he 
might  think  proper  to  demand  ?" 

"  And  was  there  not  something  sublimely  cutting,"  asked 
Bell,  "  in  the  reply  of  General  Brannan  that  he  demanded  no 
satisfaction  whatever,  as  Colonel  Wyman  had  only  relieved 
him  of  a  woman  unworthy  of  his  love  or  confidence  ?" 

"  Yes,  that  was  a  little  lowering  to  the  dignity  of  the  wo- 
man, if  she  had  any  left,"  said  Joe.  "  But  the  Kearney  elope- 
ment— was  not  that  romantic  without  any  drawback  ?  There 
was  something  of  the  wicked  old  Paladin,  that  rattle-heads 
like  myself  cannot  help  admiring,  in  the  one-armed  man 
whose  other  limb  slept  in  an  honored  grave  in  Mexico, 
invading  the  charmed  circle  of  Xew  York  moneyed-respecta- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  195 

bility,  carrying  off  the  daughter  of  one  of  its  first  lawyers  and 
an  ex-Collector — then  submitting  to  a  divorce,  marrying  the 
woman  who  had  trusted  all  to  his  honor,  and  plunging  into 
the  fights  of  Magenta  and  Solferino  with  the  same  spirit 
which  had  led  him  into  the  thick  of  the  conflicts  at  Chapul- 
tepec  and  the  Garita  de  Belen.  Poor  Wyman  has  already 
expiated  his  errors  with  his  life,  but  I  do  hope  that  Kearney 
may  carry  his  remaining  arm  through  this  miserable  war  and 
live  to  be  so  honored  that  even  his  one  great  fault  may  be 
forgotten  I" 

The  young  girl's  eyes  flashed,  her  cheeks  were  flushed, 
and  any  one  who  looked  upon  her  at  that  moment  would  have 
believed  her  almost  brave  enough  for  an  Amazon  and  more 
than  a  little  warped  in  her  perceptions  of  what  constituted 
the  right  and  the  wrong  of  domestic  relations.  How  little, 
meanwhile,  they  would  have  known  her!  Ninety-nine  out 
of  one  hundred  of  the  women  unwilling  to  confess  that  they 
had  ever  read  a  page  of  the  Wyman  or  the  Kearney  scan- 
dal, and  saying  "hush  I"  and  "tut !  tut  !"  to  any  one  who 
pretended  to  make  the  least  defence  of  either — would  have 
been  found  infinitely  more  approachable  for  any  purpose  of 
actual  wrong  or  vice,  than  rattling,  out-spoken  and  irrepressi- 
ble Joe  Harris  ! 

Wyman  was  dead,  as  she  had  said — having  expiated,  with 
his  life,  so  much  as  could  be  expiated  of  all  past  wrong,  and 
having  partially  hidden  the  memory  of  his  crime  by  his  brave 
offer  of  satisfaction  to  the  wronged  husband  and  his  unflinch- 
ing conduct  before  the  enemies  of  his  country  in  battle.  But 
how  little  she  thought,  at  the  moment  of  speaking,  that  the 
bullet  was  already  billeted  for  the  breast  of  Kearney,  and  that 
he  was  to  fall,  but  a  few  weeks  after,  a  sacrifice  to  his  own  rash- 
ness and  the  incapacity  of  others  !  Does  war  indeed  have  a 
mission  beyond  the  national  good  or  evil  for  which  it  is  in- 
stituted ?  And  are  its  missiles  of  death  and  the  diseases  to 
which  its  exposures  give  rise,  especially  commissioned  to  re- 
pay past  crimes  and  by-gone  errors  ?  Not  so,  inevitably  ! — 
or  many  a  worthless  incapable  and  many  a  dishonest  trader 
in  his  country's  blood  and  treasure  would  before  this  have 
bitten  the  dust, — and  Baker,  Lyon,  Lander,  Winthrop  and 


196  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

fifty  other  prominent  martyrs  to  the  cause  of  the  Union 
would  yet  have  been  alive  and  battling  for  the  right ! 

Suddenly,  the  conversation  between  Josephine  Harris  and' 
Bell  Crawford  came  to  a  conclusion,  and  the  former  sprung 
to  her  feet  with  a  frightened  and  angry  "  ough  I"  while  the 
latter  leaned  back  in  her  chair  in  a  state  of  stupefied  vexation 
not  easy  to  describe.  The  cause  of  this  excitement  may  be 
briefly  given.  Both  at  the  same  instant  discovered  a  face 
thrust  down  to  the  level  of  their  own  and  immediately  be- 
tween  them,  with  a  familiarity  most  inexcusable  in  a  stranger. 
Yet  the  face  was  certainly  that  of  an  entire  stranger — a  re- 
spectably dressed  elderly  man,  with  full  gray  hair  and  beard, 
and  holding  a  speckled  Leghorn  hat  in  his  hand. 

"  Ough  !  get  out !  who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want 
here  ?"  broke  out  the  excited  girl,  with  a  propensity,  mean- 
while, to  repay  this  second  impudence  of  the  day  by  such  a 
sound  boxing  of  the  ears  as  would  make  the  event  one  to  be 
remembered  ;  while  Miss  Crawford  took  a  rather  more  prac- 
tical view  of  the  matter,  with  the  single  word  "Imperti- 
nence V1  and  a  supplementary  call  of  "  Waiter  !" 

"  Ladies  !  ladies  !  what  is  the  matter  ?"  asked  the  elderly 
intruder,  as  he  saw  the  movements  of  the  two  girls,  and  the 
waiter  hurrying  up  with  his  towel  over  his  arm,  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  call. 

"Anything  wanted.  Miss  ?"  asked  the  waiter. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Bell  Crawford.  "Take  that  man  away 
from  this  table.  He  must  be  either  a  wretch  or  a  madman, 
to  intrude  in  this  way  where  he  is  not  known  or  wanted." 

"Yes,"  echoed  Joe,  remembering  the  scene  in  the  street, 
only  an  hour  or  two  before — "  take  him  away,  and  if  you  can 
find  any  one  to  do  it,  have  him  caned  soundly." 

"  Come,  sir,  you  must  go  to  another  table — these  ladies  are 
strangers  and  complain  of  you,"  said  the  waiter,  taking  the 
strange  man  by  the  arm.  and  disposed  to  relieve  two  ladies 
from  impertinence,  though  not,  as  suggested,  to  lose  a  cus- 
tomer for  the  house. 

"Why,  ladies,  this  treatment  is  really  very  strange  !"  said 
the  man  complained  of,  all  gravity  and  surprise.  "Just  as 
if  I  was  really  a  stranger — just  as  if—" 


S  IT  O  V  L  P  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S.  197 

But  hero  ho  was  broken  in  upon  by  Joe  Harris  absolutely 
screaming  with  laughter  and  dropping  into  her  chair  as  ab- 
ruptly as  she  had  quitted  it  the  moment  before. 

"  Well  ?"  queried  Bell ;  and  "  Well  f*  though  he  did  not 
give  the  query  words,  looked  the  puzzled  waiter. 

"  Oh  !  oh  I  oh  !  that  is  too  good  !"  broke  out  the  laughing 
girl.  "  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  why  don't  you  recognize  him,  Bell  ? 
That  is  Mr.  Leslie  !" 

Whether  Miss  Joe  had  recognized  him  by  the  voice,  the 
second  time  he  spoke,  or  whether  something  in  the  undis- 
guiseable  eyes  (were  her  own  the  keen  eyes  of  love,  already 
awakened,  that  saw  more  clearly  than  others  could  do  ?)  had 
betrayed  him — certain  it  was  that  the  masquerade  was  over, 
so  far  as  she  was  concerned,  and  our  friend  Tom  Leslie  stood 
fullv  discovered.  The  waiter  saw  that  his  interference  was 
no  longer  needed,  and  moved  away  at  once  ;  and  Bell  Craw- 
ford, at  length  fully  aware  of  the  trick,  joined  less  noisily  in 
the  laugh  which  convulsed  her  friend. 

"  And  what  does  the  masquerade  mean  ?"  finally  asked 
the  soberer  of  the  two  girls,  as  they  were  leaving  the  saloon, 
— while  the  other,  who  wished  to  know  much  worse,  was  con- 
siderably more  ashamed  to  ask. 

"  Humph  !"  answered  Tom  Leslie.  "  You  have  a  right  to 
ask,  ladies,  but  if  you  will  excuse  me  I  should  prefer  not  to 
answer  until  the  visit  is  paid.  You  will  remember  that  I  told 
you  I  had  a  reason  something  like  your  own  for  leaving  the 
carriage  j  and  if  for  the  present  you  will  accept  the  explana- 
tion that  I  wish  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the  fortune-teller 
without  her  being  at  all  indebted  to  any  observation  of  my 
face  or  any  possible  previous  recollection  of  me,  I  shall  be 
your  debtor  to  the  extent  of  a  full  explanation  afterwards, 
should  you  think  proper  to  demand  it," 

It  is  not  impossible  that  Joe  Harris,  who  had  just  been 
congratulating  herself  upon  a  promenade  with  a  man  not  only 
good-looking  but  comparatively  young,  may  have  had  her 
personal  objections  to  the  even  temporary  substitution  of 
sixtv-five  or  seventy;  but  if  so,  her  red  lip  only  pouted  a 
little,  and  she  said  nothing  more  on  the  subject  as  the  three 


198  SHOULPKR-STR  APS. 

took  their  way  up  Broadway  and  down  Prinze  Street  to  the 
place  where  all  the  secrets  of  the  past,  present  and  future 
were  to  be  revealed. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 


Necromancy  in  a  Thunder- Storm — A  very  Improper 
"Joining  of  Hands" — Bell  Crawford's  Eyes,  and  other 
Eyes — Two  Pictures  in  the  Dusseldorf — A  Thunder- 
Clap  and  a  Shriek — The  Red  Woman  without  a  Mask. 

It  was  perhaps  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the  trio 
of  fortune-seekers  reached  the  door  that  had  been  designated 
by  the  advertisement  as  No.  —  Prince  Street;  and  the  fiery 
heat  that  had  been  pouring  down  during  all  the  earlier  part 
of  the  day  was  somewhat  moderated  by  heavy  clouds  rising 
in  the  West  and  skimming  half  the  upper  sky,  indicating  a 
thunder-storm  rapidly  approaching.  Perhaps  Tom  Leslie 
thought;,  as  he  approached  the  door  sacred  to  the  sublime 
mysteries  of  humbug,  of  the  appropriateness  of  thunder  in 
the  heavens  and  lightning  playing  down  on  the  beaten  earth 
— provided  he  should  find  the  mysterious  woman  of  the  Rue 
la  Reynie  Ogniard,  who  had  succeeded  in  giving  to  his  frank 
and  bold  spirit  the  only  shock  it  had  ever  received  from  the 
powers  of  the  supernatural  world.  Perhaps  he  felt  that  for 
whatever  was  to  come — melancholy  jest  or  terrible  earnest — 
the  bursting  roar  of  the  warring  elements  would  be  a  fitting 
accompaniment,  to  lend  it  a  little  dignity  in  the  one  event  and 
to  distract  the  overstrained  attention  in  the  other. 

Perhaps  he  was  even  a  little  theatrical  in  his  fancies,  and 
remembered  the  crashes  of  sheet-iron  thunder  and  the  blind- 
ing blaze  of  the  gunpowder  lightning,  that  always  accom- 
panied the  shot-cylinder  rain  when  Macbeth  was  seeking  the 
weird  sisters  for  the  second  time — when  the  fearful  incanta- 
tions of  "Der  Freischutz"  were  about  to  be  commenced — or 


SHOULDEK-STKAPS.  199 

when  the  ever-ready  demon  was  invoked  by  Faust,  the  first 
printer-devil.  If  he  had  any  of  these  fancies  he  was  in  a  fair 
way  of  being  accommodated ;  for  casting  a  glance  up  at  the 
heavens  as  they  approached  the  house,  he  saw  that  the  ob- 
scurity was  becoming  still  denser  ;  and  more  than  once,  above 
the  rumble  of  the  carts  and  omnibuses  that  made  Broadway 
one  wide  earthquake  of  subterranean  noises,  he  caught  a  far- 
off  booming  that  he  knew  to  be  the  thunder  of  the  advancing 
etorm,  already  playing  its  fearful  overture  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Pennsylvania. 

His  companions  were  too  much  absorbed  by  the  novelty 
of  their  errand,  and  a  little  expressed  apprehension  on  the 
part  of  Bell  that  if  the  rain  came  on  and  the  carriage  should 
not  be  ready  at  the  exact  moment  when  it  was  wanted,  her 
costly  summer  drapery  might  run  a  chance  of  being  wetted 
and  disordered,— -to  make  any  close  examination  of  the  outside 
of  the  building  at  the  door  of  which  Leslie  rang;  and  indeed 
they  had  not  the  same  reason  for  remarking  any  peculiarities. 
Leslie  saw  that  it  was  certainly  the  same  at  which  Harding 
and  himself  had  stood  two  nights  before — that  the  tree  (his 
tree,  for  had  he  not  "hugged"  it  ?— and  who  shall  dare,  in 
this  proper  age,  to  "hug"  what  is  not  his  own  ?)— that  the 
tree  stood  in  the  relation  he  remembered,  to  the  window— and 
that  at  that  window  the  same  white  curtain  was  visible, 
though  not  swept  back,  and  now  covering  all  the  sash  com- 
pletely. He  almost  thought  that  he  could  distinguish  the  flag 
in  the  pavement  on  which  he  must  have  struck  the  hardest 
when  tumbling  down  from  the  tree,  and  his  vivid  imagination 
would  not  have  been  much  surprised  to  see  a  slight  dint  there, 
such  as  may  be  made  on  a  tin  pot  or  a  stove-pipe  by  the 
iconoclastic  hammer  in  the  hand  of  an  exuberant  four-year- 
old. 

On  one  of  the  lintels  of  the  door,  as  he  had  not  noticed  on 
the  previous  visit,  was  a  narrow  strip  of  black  japanned  tin, 
with  '-Madame  Elise  Boutell"  in  small  bronze  letters,  of 
that  back-slope  writing  only  made  by  French  painters,  and 
which  can  only  be  met  with,  ordinarily,  in  the  French  cities 
or  those  of  the  adjacent  German  provinces.  It  seems  un- 
likely that  any  particular  attention  should  have  been  paid  to 


200  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  latter  unimportant  detail  at  that  moment ;  but  the  detail 
was  really  not  an  unimportant  one.  Annum-  the  half-working 
amusements  of  his  idle  hours  in  youth,  Leslie  had  indulged 
in  a  little  amateur  sign-painting,  and  he  boasted  that  he 
eould  distinguish  one  of  the  cities  of  the  Union  from  any 
other,  by  the  styles  of  the  signs  alone,  if  he  should  be  set 
down  blindfold  in  the  commercial  centre,  and  then  allowed 
the  use  of  his  eyes.  In  the  present  instance,  by  the  use  of 
his  quick  faculty  of  observation,  he  saw  that  the  lettering  of 
the  sign  was  no  American  imitation,  but  really  French.  The 
deductions  were  that  it  had  been  done  in  Paris — that  it  had 
been  used  there — that  "  Madame  Elise  Boutell"  had  used  it 
for  the  same  purpose  there.  Was  not  here  a  corroboration 
of  the  theory  of  the  Rue  la  Reynie  Ogniard  ? 

All  these  observations,  of  course,  had  been  made  very 
briefly — in  the  little  time  necessary  for  Bell  Crawford  finally 
to  congratulate  herself  that  the  ribbons  of  her  hat  would  at 
least  be  sheltered  by  the  house  for  a  time,  and  for  Joe  Harris 
to  remark  what  a  dirty  and  tumble-down  precinct  Prince 
Street  seemed  to  be,  altogether.  By  this  time,  the  ring  was 
answered  and  the  door  opened  by  a  neatly  dressed  negro 
girl,  who  seemed  to  have  none  of  the  peculiarities  of  the 
race  except  its  color,  and  of  whom  Leslie  asked  : 

"  Madame  Boutell  ?     Can  we  see  her  ?" 

"  If  Monsieur  and  Mesdames  will  have  the  goodness  to 
step  into  this  room,"  was  the  reply  of  the  servant,  opening 
the  door  of  the  parlor,  "  Madame  Boutell  will  have  the 
honor  of  receiving  them  in  a  few  moments." 

li  Aha !"  said  Leslie  to  himself,  as  they  entered  the  room, 
the  door  closed  and  the  negro-girl  disappeared.  "  Aha ! 
1  Monsieur'  and  '  Mesdames.'  besides  being  marvellously  cor- 
rect in  her  speech  and  polite  enough  for  a  French  dancing 
master!     All  this  looks  more  and  more  suspicious." 

"  Nothing  so  very  terrible  here,"  remarked  Josephine  Har- 
ris, at  once  addressing  her  attention  to  some  excellent  prints, 
commonly  framed,  hanging  on  the  wall.  "  Some  of  these 
pictures  are  very  nice,  and  as  I  could  throw  away  the  frames, 
I  should  not  much  mind  hooking  them  if  I  had  a  good  oppor- 
tunitv. " 


SIIO  UL  DE  R-STR  APS.  201 

"  But  the  piano  is  shockingly  out  of  tune,"  remarked  Bell, 
who  had  immediately  commenced  a  listless  kind  of  assault  on 
that  ill-used  indispensable  of  all  rooms  in  which  people  are 
expected  to  wait. 

"  Bell,  for  conscience  sake  leave  that  piano  alone  !  You 
have  nearly  murdered  the  one  at  home,  and  I  do  not  see  why 
you  should  be  the  enemy  of  the  whole  race  !"  was  the  com- 
plimentary reply  of  Josephine,  which  caused  Bell,  with  a 
little  pout  on  her  lip,  to  leave  the  piano  and  commence  tap- 
ping the  cheap  bronzes  on  the  mantel  with  the  end  of  her 
parasol,  by  way  of  discovering  whether  they  were  metal  or 
plaster. 

Just  then  there  were  steps  in  the  hall,  the  outer  door 
opened,  and  Joe,  running  suddenly  to  the  window,  was  ena- 
bled to  catch  a  glimpse  through  the  blinds,  of  a  gentleman 
and  a  lady  passing  down  the  steps  from  the  door  and  walking 
hurriedly  towards  Broadway.  The  next  moment  the  door 
from  the  hall  opened,  and  the  negro  girl,  stepping  within, 
said  : 

M  Madame  Boutell  will  have  the  honor  to  receive  Monsieur 
and  Mesdames,  if  they  will  be  so  good  as  to  ascend  the  stairs." 

"  Now  for  it,"  said  Joe,  touching  Leslie's  arm  with  a  little 
bit  of  shudder,  real  or  affected,  and  speaking  in  a  tone  so  low 
that  it  seemed  designed  only  for  his  car  and  flattered  that 
male  person's  vanity  amazingly.  "Now  for  it! — I  have 
never  been  anywhere  near  the  infernal  regions  before,  to  my 
knowledge,  and  you  must  take  care  of  us  !" 

"I  will  try — Miss  Harris — may  I  not  say  Josephine  ?"  was 
the  reply  of  Leslie,  who,  though  he  had  said  very  little  in 
that  direction,  kept  his  eyes  pretty  closely  on  the  wild  female 
counterpart  of  himself,  and  was  really  getting  on  somewhat 
rapidly  towards  an  entanglement. 

The  Apartment  into  which  the  seekers  after  information  (or 
no  information)  were  ushered,  was  reached  by  ascending  an 
old-fashioned  stair,  through  a  hall  not  very  well  lighted,  even 
in  a  summer  afternoon  ;  and  when  they  entered  it  they  found 
it  to  be  one  of  two,  divided  by  a  red  curtain  which  dropped 
to  the  floor  and  supplied  the  place  of  a  door.  No  necroman- 
tic appliances  were  visible  in  the  room ;  and  with  the  excep- 


202  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

tion  of  a  table,  three  or  four  chairs  and  a  carpet  more  or  less 
worn,  it  was  without  articles  of  use  or  ornament.  Motioning 
the  party  to  chairs,  which  only  Bell  accepted,  the  negro 
attendant  said  : 

"Will  Monsieur  and  the' ladies  enter  Madame's  private 
room  together,  or  singly  ?  Madame  does  not  often  receive 
more  than  one  at  once,  but  will  do  so  for  this  distinguished 
company,  if  they  wish  ?M 

"Ahem!"  said  Leslie,  involuntarily  pulling  up  his  collar 
at  the  words  u distinguished  company,"  while  "  Good  gra- 
cious ! — how  did  they  know  that  ice  were  coming  ?"  was  the 
exclamation  of  Joe,  to  Bell,  sotto  voce. 

M  Oh,  let  us  all  go  in  together,"  said  Bell,  who  probably 
had  less  suspicion  of  a  secret  that  could  possibly  be  awk- 
ward of  disclosure,  in  her  own  breast,  than  either  of  her  com- 
panions. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  said  Joe.  "You  may  have  nothing  to 
conceal,  Bell,  but  I  have — lots  of  things  ;  and  though  I  may 
be  willing  to  have  the  French  woman  drain  me  dry,  like  a 
pump,  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall  offer  you  the  same  privi- 
lege." 

"No,  on  the  whole,  decidedly  not,"  said  Leslie.  ''Of 
course,  ladies,  there  is  really  nothing  for  the  most  timid  to 
fear ;  and  even  if  there  were,  the  two  others  will  be  in  the 
room  immediately  adjoining.  Decidedly,  if  you  are  both 
willing,  each  had  better  tempt  fate  alone." 

"  And  who  will  go  in  first,  then  ?"  asked  Bell. 

"Humph  !"  said  Joe,  "there  is  a  grave  question.  The  de- 
crees of  fate  must  not  be  tampered  with,  and  the  wrong  one 
going  in  first  might  send  those  '  stars'  on  which  the  witch 
depends,  into  most  alarming  collision." 

"Easily  arranged,"  said  Leslie,  drawing  a  handful  of  coin 
from  his  pocket,  handing  one  of  the  pieces  to  eacn  of  the 
girls,  and  retaining  one  himself.  "  As  fate  is  the  deity  to  be 
consulted,  let  fate  take  care  of  her  own.  The  one  who  hap- 
pens to  hold  the  piece  of  oldest  date  shall  take  the  first  chance, 
and  the  others  will  follow  according  to  the  same  rule.  I  have 
settled  more  than  one  important  question  of  my  life  in  this 
manner,  and  I  have  an  idea  that  they  have  been  settled  quite 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  203 

as  .satisfactorily  as  they  could   have   been  by  any  exercise  of 
judgment" 

"Eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-two," said  Bell,  looking  at  the 
date  on  her  coin.  "Eighteen  hundred  and  fifty-seven,"  said 
Joe,  paying  the  same  attention  to  the  one  she  held.  And 
"  Eighteen  hundred  and  sixty-one — only  last  year  !"  said 
Leslie,  jingling  the  coins  in  his  hand  and  then  dropping  them 
back  into  his  pocket, — from  which  (par  parenthese)  they 
were  so  soon  and  so  effectually  to  disappear,  with  all  others 
of  their  kind,  in  the  turning  of  exchanges  against  us  and  the 
general  derangement  of  the  currency  of  the  country. 

"  You  are  first,  Bell,  you  see  !"  said  Joe,  "  and  I  hope  you 
will  be  able  to  take  the  fiery  edge  off  the  teeth  of  the  dragon 
before  I  get  in  to  him." 

"And  i"  am  the  last,  you  perceive  !"  said  Leslie.  "The 
last,  as  I  always  have  been  where  women  were  concerned — 
too  late,  and  of  course  unsuccessful." 

There  may  have  been  no  positive  reason  for  the  slight  flush 
which  crossed  the  face  of  Josephine  Harris  at  that  moment, 
or  for  the  conscious  look  of  pleasure  that  danced  for  an 
instant  in  her  eyes  ;  and  yet  there  may  have  been  a  thought 
of  true  happiness  at  the  assurance  which  the  last  words  of 
Leslie  conveyed,  that  he  was  an  unmarried  man  and  had 
been,  so  far,  near  enough  heart-whole  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses. If  the  latter  should  even  have  been  true,  she  need 
not  have  flushed  a  second  time  at  recognizing  the  feeling  in 
herself;  for  most  certainly  those  apparently  light  words  of 
Tom  Leslie  had  been,  so  to  speak,  shot  at  her,  with  a  de- 
termined intention  of  feeling  ground  to  be  afterwards  trodden. 

"  Madame  is  waiting  your  pleasure,"  said  the  negro  girl, 
who  had  remained  standing  near  the  curtain  all  this  while, 
but  too  far  distant  to  catch  many  of  the  words  passing 
between  the  three  visitors,  which  had  all  been  uttered  in  a 
low  tone. 

"Ah,  yes,  we  have  kept  her  waiting  too  long,  perhaps," 
said  Leslie,  "  and  who  knows  but  the  fates  may  be  the  more 
unkind  to  us  for  the  neglect  of  their  priestess."  He  was 
really  not  very  well  at  his  ease,  but  somewhat  anxious  to 
appear  so,  as  all  very  bashful  people  can  fully  understand, 
13 


204  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

when  they  remember  the  efforts  they  have  sometimes  made 
to  appear  the  most  impudent  men  in  creation.  Tom  Leslie 
was  not  in  the  slightest  degree  bashful,  and  so  the  comparison 
fails  in  that  regard  ;  but  he  was  more  than  a  little  nervous  at 
the  certainty  which  he  felt  of  once  more  meeting  the  'Ted 
woman,"  and  for  that  reason  he  wished  to  seem  the  man  with 
no  nerves  whatever. 

"It  is  my  turn — I  will  go  in,"  said  Bell  Crawford,  rising 
from  her  chair  and  following  the  negro  attendant  within  the 
curtain,  which  only  parted  a  little  to  admit  her  and  then  swept 
down  again  to  the  floor,  giving  no  glimpse  to  the  two  out- 
siders of  what  might  be  within. 

The  sky  had  now  grown  perceptibly  darker,  though  it  was 
still  some  hours  to  night ;  and  at  the  moment  when  Bell 
Crawford  entered  the  inner  room  of  the  sorceress  the  gather- 
ing thunder-storm  burst  in  fury.  The  thunder  was  not  as 
yet  peculiarly  heavy,  and  the  flashes  of  lightning  had  often 
been  surpassed  in  vividness ;  but  the  rain  poured  down  in 
torrents  and  the  gust  of  wind,  which  swept  through  the  streets 
set  windows  rattling  and  doors  and  shutters  banging  at  a  rate 
which  promised  work  for  the  carpenters.  The  two  windows 
of  the  room  looked  out  upon  the  street,  though  through  closed 
blinds ;  and  whether  intentionally  or  inadvertently,  the  two 
in  waiting  drew  two  chairs  to  one  of  the  windows,  very  near 
together,  and  sat  there,  watching  the  dashing  rain  and  listen- 
ing to  the  storm.  Had  there  been  any  possibility  of  hearing 
the  words  spoken  in  the  adjoining  room,  that  possibility  would 
now  have  been  entirely  destroyed  by  the  noise  of  the  storm ; 
and  whatever  of  curiosity  either  may  have  felt  for  the  result 
of  Bell's  adventure,  was  rendered  inefficient  for  the  time. 
Meanwhile,  something  else  was  working  of  quite  as  much 
consequence. 

Chances  and  accidents  are  very  curious  things  ;  and  those 
who  have  no  belief  in  a  Supreme  Being  who  brings  about 
great  results  by  apparently  insignificant  agencies,  must  have 
a  very  difficult  time  of  it,  in  reconciling  the  incongruous  and 
the  inadequate.  Holmes,  the  merriest  and  wisest  of  social 
philosophers  (when  he  does  not  run  mad  on  the  human-snake 
theory,  as  he  has  done  in  u  Elsie  Vernier")  very  prettily  illus- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  206 

trates  the  opposite,  as  to  how  the  agency  which  moves  the 
great  may  also  perform  the  little,  in 

"  The  force  that  wheels  the  planets  round  delights  in  spinning  tops, 
And  that  young  earthquake   t'other  day  was  great  on  shaking 
props  ;" 

bat  the  opposite  may  be  illustrated  more  easily,  and  is  cer- 
tainly illustrated  much  oftener.     Not  only  may 

"  A  broken  girth  decide  a  nation's  fate," 

in  battle ;  but  a  gnawing  insignificant  rat  may  sink  a  ship, 
and  one  contemptible  traitor  be  able  to  disseminate  poison 
enough  to  destroy  a  republic  ;  while  the  question  of  whether 
Bobby  does  or  does  not  take  his  top  with  him  to  school  to- 
day, may  decide  whether  he  does  or  does  not  wander  off  to 
the  neighboring  pond  to  be  drowned;  and  Smith's  being  seen 
to  step  into  a  billiard-room  may  decide  1^e  question  of  credit 
against  him  in  the  Bank  discount-committee,  and  send  him  to 
the  commercial  wall,  a  bankrupt.  That  glance  of  unnecessary 
and  unladylike  scorn  which  Lady  Flora  yesterday  cast  upon 
a  beggar-woman  who  accidently  brushed  against  her  costly 
robes  on  Broadway,  may  have  lost  her  a  rich  husband,  who 
would  otherwise  have  been  deceived  until  after  marriage,  as 
to. her  real  character;  and  the  involuntary  act  of  courtesy  of 
John  Hawkins,  stooping  down  to  pick  up  the  dropped  um- 
brella of  a  common  woman  with  a  baby  and  two  bundles,  in 
a  passenger-car,  may  make  him  a  friend  for  life,  worth  more 
than  all  he  has  won  by  twenty-five  years  of  hard-working 
industry  and  honesty. 

In  this  point  of  view  there  are  no  "little  things;"  and 
probably  he  is  best  prepared  for'  all  the  exigencies  of  coming 
life,  who  is  ready  to  be  the  least  surprised  at  finding  a 
dwarfed  shrub  growing  up  from  an  acorn,  and  a  mighty  tree 
springing  from  the  proverbial  "grain  of  mustard  seed." 

Not  to  be  prolix  on  this  subject — let  us  remember  one 
capital  illustration — that  of  the  clown  and  his  two  pieces  of 
fireworks.  No  matter  in  what  pantomime  the  scene  occurs, 
us  it  may  do  for  any.     The  clown  approaches  the  door  of  a 


206  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

dealer  in  fireworks,  finds  DO  one  on  duty  in  the  shop,  enters,  and 
oomes  out  laden  with  pyrotechnic  spoils.  He  takes  a  small 
rocket,  fires  it,  and  is  knocked  down,  frightened  and  stunned 
by  the  unexpectedly-heavy  explosion.  But  he  recover-  di- 
rectly, and  determines  to  try  the  experiment  over  again. 
There  is  one  immense  rocket  among  the  collection  he  has 
brought  out — one  almost  as  long  as  himself  and  apparently 
capable  of  holding  half  a  barrel  of  explosive  material.  He 
shakes  his  head  knowingly  to  the  audience,  indicative  of  the 
fact  that  this  is  something  immense  and  that  he  is  going  to 
be  very  careful  about  it.  He  sticks  it  up  in  the  very  middle 
of  the  stage,  secures  a  light  at  the  end  of  a  long  pole,  and 
touches  it  off  with  great  fear  and  trembling.  The  explosion 
which  follows  is  exactly  that  of  one  Chinese  fire-cracker; 
and  the  comically  disappointed  face  which  the  clown  turns  to 
the  audience  is  precisely  the  same  that  each  individual  of  that 
audience  is  continually  turning  to  another  audience  surround- 
ing hion,  when  the  great  and  small  rockets  of  his  daily  life  go 
off  with  such  disproportionate  effect. 

Perhaps  it  was  chance  that  not  only  produced  the  previous 
circumstances  of  that  day,  but  so  ordered  that  Bell  Crawford 
should  be  the  first  to  vacate  the  outer  room,  leaving  that  ex- 
traordinary couple  alone  together.  Perhaps  it  was  chance 
that  led  them  to  take  seats  beside  each  other  at  the  window, 
when  they  might  so  easily  have  found  room  to  sit  with  some 
distance  between  them.  Perhaps  it  was  chance  that  made 
the  lightning  flash  in  long  lines  of  blinding  light  across  the 
sky,  and  sent  the  thunder  booming  and  crashing  above  the 
roofs  of  the  houses,  producing  that  indefinable  feeling  that 
needed  companionship — that  "  huddling  together"  which  even 
the  terrible  beasts  of  the  East  Indian  jungles  show  in  the 
midst  of  the  fearful  tornadoes  of  that  region.  Perhaps  it  was 
chance  that,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  silence,  induced  Tom 
Leslie,  without  well  knowing  why  he  did  it,  to  lay  his  open 
palm  on  his  knee,  and  to  look  for  a  moment  with  a  glance  of 
inquiry,  full  in  the  eyes  of  the  young  girl  who  sat  at  his 
rfght,  as  if  to  say  :  "  There  is  my  open  hand — we  have  known 
each  other  but  a  little  while — dare  you  lay  your  hand  in  it  IP 
Perhaps  it  was  chance  that  made  the  young  girl  return  the 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  207 

steady  glance — then  drop  her  eyes  with  so  sad  a  look  that 
tears  might  easily  have  been  trembling  under  the  long  lashes, 
— color  a  little  on  cheek  and  brow,  as  if  some  tint  of  the  sun- 
rise flush  had  for  a  moment  rested  upon  her  face — then  slowly 
reach  over  her  right  hand  and  let  it  drop  and  nestle  into  the 
one  ready  to  receive  it.  Perhaps  all  these  things  were  chance  : 
well,  let  them  be  so  set  down — such  "  chances"  are  worth 
something  in  life,  to  those  who  know  how  to  embrace  them  ! 

What  have  we  here  ?  Two  persons  who  had  spoken  to 
each  other  for  the  first  time,  only  a  few  hours  before,  and  who 
had  since  held  marvellously  little  conversation,  now  sitting 
hand  in  hand,  their  soft  palms  pressed  close  together,  and 
every  pulse  of  the  mental  and  physical  natures  of  both  thrill- 
ing at  the  touch  !  Exceedingly  improper  ! — exceedingly  hur- 
ried ! — exceedingly  indelicate  !  Modesty,  where  were  you 
about  this  time  ?  If  we  have  gone  so  fast  already,  how  fast 
may  we  go  by-and-bye  ?  Alas,  they  are  living  people  whom 
we  have  before  us — not  cherubim  and  seraphim  ;  and  they  do 
as  they  please,  and  act  very  humanly,  in  spite  of  every  care 
we  can  take  of  their  morals.  They  have  not  said  one  word 
of  love  to  each  other,  it  is  true ;  but  the  mischief  seems  to 
have  been  done.  Xothing  may  have  been  said,  in  the  way 
of  a  promise  of  marriage,  capable  of  being  taken  hold  of  by 
the  keenest  lawyer  who  pleads  in  the  Brown- Stone  building ; 
but  we  are  not  sure  that  ever  tongue  spoke  to  ear,  or  ever 
lip  kissed  back  to  lip,  so  true  and  enduring  a  betrothal  as  has 
sometimes  been  signed  in  the  meeting  of  two  palms,  when 
not  a  word  had  been  spoken  and  when  neither  of  the  pair 
had  one  rational  thought  of  the  future. 

Suddenly  and  without  warning  the  curtain  between  the  two 
rooms  moved.  How  quickly  those  two  hands  drew  apart  from 
each  other,  as  if  some  act  of  guilt  had  been  doing  !  If  any 
additional  proof  was  wanting,  of  something  clandestine  (and 
of  course  improper  !)  between  the  parties,  here  it  was  cer- 
tainly supplied.  People  never  attempt  to  deceive,  who  have 
not  been  playing  tricks.  Well-regulated  and  candid  people, 
who  do  everything  by  rule,  never  start  and  blush  at  any  awk- 
ward contretemps,  never  have  any  concealments,  but  tell 
everything  to  the  outer  world.      Privacy  is   a  crime — all  sly 


208  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

people  are  reprobates.  Wicked  Tom  and  erring-  Joe  ! — what 
a  gulf  of  perdition  they  were  sinking  into  without  know- 
ing it ! 

The  curtain  not  only  moved  but  was  drawn  aside,  and  out 
of  it  stepped  Bell  Crawford.  She  walked  slowly  and  de- 
liberately, like  one  in  deep  thought,  and  without  a  word 
crossed  the  room  towards  the  point  where  her  two  friends 
were  sitting.  Something  in  her  face  brought  them  both  to 
their  feet.  What  was  that  something  ?  She  had  been  absent 
from  them  for  perhaps  ten  minutes — certainly  not  more  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour;  and  yet  change  enough  had  p 
over  her,  to  have  marked  the  passage  of  ten  twelve-months. 
The  face  looked  older,  perhaps  sadder,  more  like  that  of  her 
brother,  and  yet  less  querulous,/  more  womanly,  better  and 
more  loveable.  Something  seemed  to  have  stirred  the  depths 
of  her  nature,  of  which  only  the  surface  had  been  before  ex- 
posed to  view.  The  revelation  was  better  than  the  index. 
She  was  capable  of  generous  things  at  that  moment,  of  which 
she  had  been  utterh^  incapable  the  hour  before.  It  was  proba- 
ble that  she  could  never  again  dash  all  over  town  in  the  search 
for  a  yard  of  ribbon  of  a  particular  color :  her  next  search 
was  likely  to  be  a  much  more  serious  one. 

The  first  glance  at  her  face,  and  the  marvellous  change  there 
exhibited,  wrought  in  so  short  a  time,  not  only  puzzled  but 
alarmed  Josephine  Harris.  She  could  not  see  where  and  in 
what  feature  lay  the  change,  any  more  than  she  could  realize 
what  could  have  been  powerful  enough  to  produce  it.  Tom 
Leslie  may  have  been  quite  as  much  alarmed  ;  but  his  older 
years  and  wider  experience,  conjoined  with  the  feelings  with 
which  he  had  come  to  that  house,  made  it  impossible  that  he 
should  be  so  much  puzzled.  He  saw  at  once  that  the  marked 
change  was  in  the  eyes.  In  their  depths  (he  had  before  re- 
marked them,  that  day,  as  indicating  a  nature  a  little  weak, 
purposeless  and  not  prone  to  self-examination) — in  their 
depths,  clear  enough  now,  there  lay  a  dark,  sombre,  but  not 
unpleasing  shadow,  such  as  only  shows  itself  in  eyes  that 
have  been  turned  inward.  We  usually  say  of  a  man  whose 
eyes  show  the  same  expression :  "  That  man  has  studied 
much,"  or,  u  he  has  suffered  much,"  or,  "he  is  a  spiritualist." 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  209 

By  the  latter  expression,  we  mean  that  he  looks  more  or  less 
beneath  the  surface  of  events  that  meet  him  in  the  world — 
that  he  is  more  or  less  a  student  of  the  spiritual  in  mentality, 
and  of  the  supernatural  in  cause  and  effect.  Such  eyes  do  not 
stare,  they  merely  gaze.  When  they  look  at  you,  they  look 
at  something  else  through  you  and  behind  you,  of  which  you 
may  or  may  not  be  a  part. 

Let  it  be  said  here,  the  occasion  being  a  most  inviting  one 
for  this  species  of  digression, — that  the  painter  who  can  suc- 
ceed in  transferring  to  canvas  that  expression  of  seeing  more 
than  is  presented  to  the  physical  eye,  has  achieved  a  triumph 
over  great  difficulties.  Frequent  visitors  to  the  old  Dussel- 
dorf  Gallery,  now  so  sadly  disrupted  and  its  treasures  scat- 
tered through  twenty  private  galleries  where  they  can  only 
be  visible  to  the  eyes  of  a  favored  few, — will  remember  two 
instances,  perhaps  by  the  same  painter,  of  the  eye  being  thus 
made  to  reveal  the  inner  thought  and  a  life  beyond  that  pass- 
ing at  the  moment.  The  first  and  most  notable  is  in  the 
"Charles  the  Second  fleeing  from  the  Battle  of  Worcester." 
The  king  and  two  nobles  are  in  the  immediate  foreground,  in 
flight,  while  far  away  the  sun  is  going  down  in  a  red  glare 
behind  the  smoke  of  battle,  the  lurid  flames  of  the  burning 
town,  and  the  royal  standard  just  fluttering  down  from  the 
battlements  of  a  castle  lost  by  the  royal  arms  at  the  very 
close  of  Cromwell's  "  crowning  mercy."  Through  the  smoke 
of  the  middle  distance  can  be  dimly  seen  dusky  forms  in 
flight,  or  in  the  last  hopeless  conflict.  Each  of  the  nobles  at 
the  side  of  the  fugitive  king  is  heavily  armed,  with  sword  in 
hand,  mounted  on  heavy,  galloping  horses,  going  at  high 
speed  ;  and  each  is  looking  out  anxiously,  with  head  turned 
aside  as  he  flies,  for  any  danger  which  may  menace — not 
himself,  but  the  sovereign.  Charles  Stuart,  riding  between 
them,  is  mounted  upon  a  dark,  high-stepping,  pure-blooded 
English  horse.  He  wears  the  peaked  hat  of  the  time,  and 
his  long  hair — that  which  afterward  became  so  notorious  in 
the  masks  and  orgies  of  Whitehall,  and  in  the  prosecution  of 
his  amours  in  the  purlieus  of  the  capital — floats  out  in  wild 
dishevelment  from  his  shoulders.  He  is  dressed  in  the  dark 
velvet  short  cloak,  and  broad,  pointed  collar  peculiar  to  pic- 


210  SH  O  D  L  DBB-8TB  A  f  3. 

tures  of  himself  and  his  unfortunate  father ;  he  shows  no 
weapon,  and  is  leaning  ungracefully  forward,  as  if  outstrip- 
ping the  hard-trotting  speed  of  his  horse.  But  the  true  in- 
terest of  this  figure,  and  of  the  whole  picture,  is  concen- 
trated in  the  eyes.  Those  sad.  dark  eyes,  steady  and  im- 
movable in  their  fixed  gaze,  reveal  whole  pages  of  history 
and  whole  years  of  suffering.  The  fugitive  king  is  not  think- 
ing of  his  flight,  of  any  dangers  that  may  beset  him.  of  the 
companions  at  his  side,  or  even  of  where  he  shall  lay  his 
perilled  head  in  the  night  that  is  coming.  Those  eyes  have 
shut  away  the  physical  and  the  real,  and  through  the  mists  of 
the  future  they  are  trying  to  read  the  great  question  of  fate! 
Worcester  is  lost,  and  with  it  a  kingdom  :  is  he  to  be  hence- 
forth a  erownless  king  and  a  hunted  fugitive,  or  has  the  fu- 
ture its  compensations  ?  This  is  what  the  fixed  and  glassy 
eyes  are  saying  to  every  beholder,  and  there  is  not  one  who 
does  not  answer  the  question  with  a  mental  response  forced 
by  that  mute  appeal  of  suffering  thought :  "  The  king  shall 
have  his  own  again  !'r 

The  second  picture  lately  in  the  same  collection,  is  much 
smaller,  and  commands  less  attention  ;  but  it  tells  another 
story  of  the  same  great  struggle  between  King  and  Parlia 
ment,  through  the  agency  of  the  same  feature.  A  wounded 
cavalier,  accompanied  by  one  of  his  retainers,  also  wounded, 
is  being  forced  along  on  foot,  evidently  to  imprisonment,  by 
one  of  Cromwell's  Ironsides  and  a  long-faced,  high-hatted 
Puritan  cavalry -man,  both  on  horseback,  and  a  third  on  foot, 
with  musquetoon  on  shoulder.  The  cavalier's  garments  are 
red  and  blood-stained,  and  there  is  a  bloody  handkerchief 
binding  his  brow,  and  telling  how,  when  his  house  was  sur- 
prised and  his  dependants  slaughtered,  he  himself  fought  till 
he  was  struck  down,  bound  and  overpowered,  still  hurling 
defiance  at  his  enemies  and  their  cause,  until  his  anger  and 
disdain  grew  to  the  terrible  height  of  silence  and  he  said  no 
more.  He  strides  sullenly  along,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  the  left ;  and  the  triumphant  captors  behind  him  know 
nothing  of  the  story  that  is  told  in  his  face.  The  eyes  fixed 
and  steady  in  the  shadow  of  the  bloody  bandage,  tell  nothing 
of  the  pain  of  his  wound  or  the  tension  of  the  cords  which 


SHO  U  LDEK-STK  APS.  211 

are  binding  his  crossed  wrists.  In  their  intense  depth,  which 
really  seems  to  convey  the  impression  of  looking  through 
forty  feet  of  the  still  but  dangerous  waters  of  Lake  George 
and  seeing  the  glimmering  of  the  golden  sand  beneath,— we 
read  of  a  burned  house  and  an  outraged  family,  and  we  see  a 
prophecy  written  there,  that  if  his  mounted  guards  could 
read,  they  would  set  spurs  and  flee  away  like  the  wind— a 
calm,  silent,  but  irrevocable  prophecy :  "  I  can  bear  all  this, 
for  my  time  is  coming  1  Not  a  man  of  all  these  will  live,  not 
a  roof-tree  that  shelters  them  but  will  be  in  ashes,  when  I 
take  my  revenge  !"  Not  a  gazer  but  knows,  through  those 
marvellous  eyes  alone,  that  the  day  is  coming  when  he  will 
have  his  revenge,  and  that  the  subject  of  pity  is  the  victori- 
ous Roundhead  instead  of  the  wounded  and  captive  cava- 
lier ! 

Not  all  this,  of  course,  was  expressed  in  the  eyes  of  Bell 
Crawford  as  she  stood  before  her  two  companions  under  the 
circumstances  just  detailed  ;  but  it  scarcely  needed  a  second 
glance  to  tell  the  keen  man  of  the  world  that  the  eyes  and 
the  brain  beneath  them  had  both  been  taught  something  before 
unknown.  He  thought  what  might  possibly  have  been  the 
expression  of  his  own  eyes,  on  a  night  so  many  times  before 
alluded  to,  could  he  but  have  seen  them  as  did  others ;  and 
if  he  had  before  held  one  lingering  doubt  of  the  personality 
of  the  woman  whose  presence  she  had  just  quitted,  that 
doubt  would  have  remained  no  longer.  It  was  the  "  red 
woman,"  beyond  a  question.  For  just  one  moment  another 
thought  crossed  his  mind,  founded  upon  that  "union  of 
hands"  so  lately  consummated.  Should  he  permit  her  to  be 
subjected  to  the  same  influences  ?  And  yet,  why  not  ?  The 
good  within  her  could  not  be  injured,  either  by  sorcery  or 
super-knowledge — either  by  the  assumption  or  the  possession 
on  the  part  of  the  seeress,  of  information  beyond  that  of 
ordinary  mortality  and  altogether  out  of  its  pale.  He  would 
permit  her  to  undergo  the  same  influences,  even  as  in  a  few 
moments  he  would  submit  to  them  himself. 

Josephine  Harris,  in  the  time  consumed  by  all  these  re- 
flections running  through  the  mind  of  Leslie,  had  not  yet 
recovered  from  her  surprise  at  the  altered  expression  on  the 


212  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

face  of  her  friend — an  expression,  oddly  enough,  that  pleased 
her  better  than  any  she  had  ever  before  observed  there,  and 
yet  frightened  her  correspondingly. 

"Dear  Bell,"  she  said,  anxiously,  and  using  a  word  of  en- 
dearment that  had  been  very  rare  between  them,  spite  of 
their  extreme  intimacy. — "  What  has  happened  ?  AYhat  have 
you  seen  ?  Are  you  sick  ?  Your  eyes  frighten  me — they 
seem  so  sad  and  earnest  !" 

"  Do  they  ?"  said  Bell,  forcing  a  smile  that  was  really  sad 
enough,  but  better  became  her  face  than  many  expre 
that  had  before  passed  over  it.  "  Well,  Josey,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  have  seen  some  strange  things,  of  which  I  will  tell 
you  at  another  time  ;  and  I  have  been  thinking  very  deeply. 
Nothing  more." 

"  You  have  seen  nothing  frightful — dreadful — terrible  ?" 
the  voung  girl  asked,  with  an  unmistakable  expression  of 
anxiety  upon  her  face. 

"Nothing  terrible,  though  something  very  strange,"  was 
the  reply  of  Bell.     "  Nothing  that  you  need  fear." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  afraid  !"  answered  Joe.  with  an  assumption 
of  bravery  that  she  probably  felt  to  be  a  sham  all  the  while. 
"I  believe  it  is  my  turn  now.  Dear  me,  how  heavy  that 
thunder  is  !  Try  and  amuse  yourselves,  good  people,  while  I 
'follow  in  the  footsteps  of  my  illustrious  predecessor' !"  and 
with  an  affectation  of  gaiety  that  was  a  little  transparent,  she 
obeyed  the  summons  of  the  black  girl  who  at  that  moment 
made  her  appearance  again  outside  the  curtain,  and  followed 
her  within. 

Bell  Crawford  dropped  into  one  of  the  chairs  that  stood  by 
the  window,  and  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand,  in  an  atti- 
tude of  deep  thought.  Leslie  did  not  attempt  to  speak  to 
her  at  that  moment,  either  aware  that  such  a  course  could 
only  be  painful  to  her,  or  too  much  absorbed  in  the  remem- 
brance of  the  other  who  had  just  passed  within  the  curtain,  to 
wish  to  do  so.  He  walked  the  floor,  from  one  side  to  the 
other  of  the  room,  the  sound  of  his  heel  falling  somewhat 
heavily  even  on  the  carpeted  floor,  and  his  head  thrown  for- 
ward in  such  a  position  that  when  he  threw  his  glance  on  a 
level  with  his  line  of  vision  it  came  out  from  under  his  bent 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  213 

brows.  The  rain  seemed  to  beat  heavier  and  heavier  out- 
side, and  dashed  against  the  windows  with  such  force  as  to 
threaten  to  beat  them  in  ;  and  successive  discharges  of  thun- 
der, accompanied  with  constant  flashes  of  fierce  lightning, 
crashed  and  rumbled  among  the  house-tops  and  seemed  to  be 
at  times  actually  booming  through  the  room,  immediately 
over  their  heads. 

In  this  way  some  fifteen  minutes  passed,  seeming  almost 
so  many  hours  to  the  young  man,  whatever  they  may  have 
appeared  to  the  young  girl  who  sat  by  the  window,  so  ab- 
sorbed by  her  own  thoughts  that  she  scarcely  heard  the  mut- 
tering thunder  or  saw  the  blinding  flashes  of  the  lightning. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  louder  and  fiercer  crash  of  thunder 
than  any  that  had  preceded  it — a  crash  of  that  peculiar  sharp- 
ness indicating  that  it  must  have  struck  the  very  house  in 
which  they  heard  it ;  and  this  accompanied  by  one  of  those 
terribly  intense  flashes  of  lightning  which  seemed  to  sear  the 
eyeballs  and  play  in  blue  flame  through  the  air  of  the  room, 
— then  followed  by  a  heavy  dull  rumbling  shock  and  boom 
like  that  of  a  thousand  pieces  of  artillery  fired  at  once,  rock- 
ing the  building  to  its  foundation  and  threatening  to  send  it 
tumbling  in  ruins  on  their  heads.  Tom  Leslie  involuntarily 
put  his  hands  to  his  eyes,  to  shut  out  the  flash,  and  Bell 
Crawford,  at  last  startled,  sprung  from  her  chair ;  but  both 
were  worse  startled,  the  very  second  after,  by  a  long,  loud, 
piercing  shriek,  in  the  voice  of  Josephine  Harris,  that  burst 
from  the  inner  room  and  seemed  like  some  cry  extorted  by 
mortal  pain  or  unendurable  terror. 

Both  rushed  towards  the  curtain,  at  once,  but  Leslie  in  ad- 
vance— both  with  the  impression  that  some  dreadful  catas- 
trophe connected  with  the  lightning  must  have  occurred. 
But  just  as  Leslie  laid  his  hand  upon  the  curtain  to  draw  it 
aside,  it  was  dashed  open  from  within,  and  Josephine  Harris 
literally  flung  herself  through  it,  still  shrieking  and  in  that 
deadly  mortal  terror  which  threatens  the  reason.  She  seemed 
about  to  fall,  and  Tom  Leslie  stretched  out  his  arms  to  receive 
her.  She  half  fell  into  them,  then  rolled,  nearer  than  described 
any  other  motion,  into  those  of  Bell  Crawford ;  and  almost 
before  Leslie  could  quite  realize  what  had  occurred,  she  lay 


214  3HOULDIR-8TRAP3. 

with  her  head  in  Bell's  lap,  the  extremity  of  her  terror  over, 
uttering  no  word,  but  sobbing-  and  moaning  like  a  little  child 
that  had  been  too  severely  dealt  with  and  broken  down  under 
the  blow. 

Tom  Leslie's  hand,  it  has  been  said,  was  on  the  curtain,  to 
remove  it.  He  released  it  for  the  instant,  to  look  after  the 
welfare  of  the  frightened  girl ;  but  when  he  saw  her  lying  in 
Bell's  lap  another  feeling  became  paramount  even  to  his 
anxiety  for  her  safety,  and  he  grasped  the  curtain  again  and 
dashed  through  into  the  inner  room. 

As  he  had  expected,  the  red  woman  of  the  Rue  la  Reynie 
Ogniard  stood  before  him,  presenting  the  same  magnificent 
outline  of  face  and  the  same  ghastly  redness  of  complexion 
that  she  had  shown  at  such  a  distance  of  time  and  place.  In 
her  hand  was  a  white  wand,  glittering  like  silver,  with  some 
bright  and  flashing  colorless  stone  at  the  end.  Her  dress,  as 
he  then  remembered,  had  been  red  when  he  saw  her  in  Paris, 
and  no  relief  to  her  ghastly  color  had  been  shown,  except  in 
the  mass  of  dark  hair  sweeping  down  her  shoulders.  Xow 
her  tall  and  stately  form  was  wrapped  in  black,  against  which 
her  cloud  of  dark  hair  was  unnoticed.  Leslie  had  not 
observed,  at  any  time  during  the  absence  of  either  of  the  two 
girls,  any  odor  of  smoke  or  any  appearance  of  it  creeping 
out  from  the  curtain  into  the  room ;  but  now,  as  he  looked,  he 
saw  white  wreaths  of  vapor  circling  near  the  ceiling  and 
fading  away  there  ;  and  he  realized  at  once,  with  the  memory 
of  the  past  in  mind,  what  had  been  the  form  in  which  the 
images  were  presented,  producing  so  startling  an  effect  on 
both. 

At  the  moment  when  he  entered,  the  black  girl  was  just 
disappearing  through  what  appeared  to  be  a  small  door  open- 
ing out  of  the  room  upon  the  landing  of  the  stairs,  and  ordi- 
narily concealed  by  the  sweeping  drapery  of  dark  cloth  that 
was  looped  around  the  entire  apartment.  TThether  the  at- 
tendant was  carrying  away  any  of  the  properties  that  might 
have  been  used  in  the  late  jugglery,  he  had,  of  course,  no 
means  of  judging.  The  sorceress  herself,  at  the  moment 
when  he  broke  in  upon  her,  was  apparently  advancing  from 
the  little  table  at  which   she   had   been   standing,   partially 


•       SHOULDER-STRAPS.  215 

within  the  sweep  of  the  hangings,  towards  the  dividing  cur- 
tain. At  sight  of  the  intruder  she  stopped  suddenly  and 
drew  her  tall  form  to  its  full  height,  while  such  a  flash  of 
anger  appeared  to  dart  from  her  keen  eyes  as  would  have 
produced  a  sensible  effect  on  any  man  less  used  to  varying 
sensations  than  the  cosmopolitan  journalist. 

"What  do  you  want?"  she  asked,  and  the  words  came 
from  her  lips  with  the  same  short  hissing  tone  that  he  so  well 
remembered,  creating  the  impression  that  there  must  be  a 
serpent  hidden  somewhere  in  the  throat  and  hissing  through 
what  would  otherwise  be  the  voice. 

"  What  sorcery  have  you  practised  upon  that  poor  girl,  to 
drive  her  into  this  state  of  distraction,  red  fiend  ?"  was  the 
answering  question,  bold  enough  in  seeming,  though  Tom 
Leslie,  asked  in  regard  to  the  matter  to-day,  would  undoubt- 
edly acknowledge  that  he  had  felt  far  less  tremor  when  under 
the  heaviest  play  of  the  Russian  cannon  at  Inkermann,  than 
when  throwing  this  sharp  taunt  into  the  teeth  of  the  sorceress. 

"  Nothing  but  what  you  have  seen  and  endured  !"  wTas  the 
reply,  made  in  the  same  tone  as  before.  "  I  have  shown 
them  the  truth,  and  the  truth  is  terrible.  It  is  murder  and 
ruin  in  their  own  households — it  is  battle  and  death  around 
those  they  love — it  is  desolation  and  destruction  to  the  land  ! 
Go  ! — those  who  cannot  witness  my  power  without  blenching, 
should  never  seek  me ;  and  you  blench  like  those  sick  girls — 
I  have  seen  you  blench  before  ?" 

"  Seen  me  V  echoed  Leslie. 

"  Seen  youV  was  the  fierce  reply  of  the  sorceress.  "  Fool ! 
do  you  think  I  cannot  penerate  that  thin  disguise — that  old 
man's  hair  and  those  false  wrinkles  ?  You  were  younger- 
looking,  eighteen  months  since,  in  another  land  where  the 
eagle  screams  less  but  tears  its  enemies  more  deeply  writh  its 
talons  !" 

"  I  v:as,"  answered  Leslie,  carried  beyond  himself.  "  I  re- 
member the  Rue  la  Reynie  Ogniard,  and  I  acknowledge  your 
fearful  power,  though  I  know  not  if  it  comes  from  heaven  or 
hell !  But  tell  me — who  are  you,  so  magnificently  beautiful, 
and  yet  so — so — "  and  here  (a  rare  thing  for  him,)  the  voice 
of  Tom  Leslie  faltered. 


216  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

11  So  horribly  hideous,  you  would  say,"  broke  iu  the  sor- 
ceress. "  Stay  !  you  have  said  one  word  that  touches  the 
woman  within  me.  You  have  recognized  my  beauty  as  well 
as  my  terror.  Look  for  one  instant  at  what  no  mortal  eye 
has  Been  for  years  or  may  ever  see  again  !     Look  !*' 

Tom  Leslie  started,  nay,  staggered — for  no  other  word  can 
express  the  motion — back  towards  the  door,  infinitely  more 
surprised  than  he  had  been  on  the  night  of  his  first  adven- 
ture with  the  sorceress.  She  held  something  in  her  hand, 
but  that  could  only  be  seen  afterwards  :  for  the  moment  his 
eyes  could  only  behold  that  marvellous  face.  If  the  Sons  of 
God  when  they  intermarried  with  the  beautiful  daughters  of 
clay,  left  any  descendants  behind  them,  certainly  that  face 
must  have  belonged  to  one  of  the  number.  Xo  longer 
ghastly  red,  but  almost  marble  white,  with  the  hue  of  health 
yet  mantling  beneath  the  wondrous  transparent  skin,  and  every 
line  and  curve  of  beauty  such  as  would  make  the  sculptor  drop 
his  chisel  in  despair — with  a  lip  that  might  have  belonged  to 
Juno  and  a  brow  that  should  have  been  set  beneath  the  hel- 
met of  Athena — with  the  glorious  dark  eye  fringed  with  long 
sweeping  lashes  and  the  wealth  of  the  dark  brown  hair 
swept  back  in  masses  of  rippled  and  tangled  shadow  that 
caught  and  lost  the  eye  continually, — what  a  perfect  vision 
of  high-born  beauty  was  that  face,  the  patent  of  nobility 
coming  direct  from  heaven  ! 

And  what  was  that  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  and  the  re- 
moval of  which  had  produced  so  wonderful  a  transformation  ? 
One  of  those  masks  of  dark  red  golden  wire,  so  fine  as  to  be 
almost  impalpable,  and  wrought  by  fingers  of  such  cunning 
skill  that  while  it  concealed  the  natural  skin  of  the  face,  every 
lineament  and  even  every  sweep  and  dimple  was  copied,  as 
if  the  monlder  had  been  working  in  wax — the  eye  looking 
through  as  naturally  as  in  the  ordinary  face,  and  even  the 
very  play  of  the  lips  permitted.  That  strange  red  light 
which  had  seemed  to  permeate  the  whole  face  and  affect  even 
the  eyes,  had  merely  been  the  red  metallic  glitter  of  the  gold, 
leaving  little  work  for  the  imagination  to  complete  a  picture 
fascinating  as  unnatural. 

"  Great  God  ! — can  such  beautv  be  real  V'  broke  out  Les- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  217 

lie,  when  be  had  gazed  for  one  instant  on  the  splendid  vision 
before  him.  "Matchless,  peerless,  glorious  woman!  Let 
me  come  nearer !  Let  me  look  longer  on  God's  master- 
work,  if  I  even  die  at  the  sight  1" 

Here  was  the  faithful  lover  of  Josephine  Harris  half  an 
hour  before, — and  in  what  a  situation  !  Oh  man,  mao,  what 
an  eye  for  miscellaneous  beauty  is  that  with  which  your  sex 
is  gifted  !  All  Mormons  at  heart,  it  is  to  be  feared,  however 
a  more  self-denying  canon  may  be  observed  perforce  !  It  is 
not  certain  that  Tom  Leslie  would  have  run  away  with  his 
new  divinity,  had  the  chance  been  offered  at  that  moment; 
and  it  is  not  certain  that  he  would  not  have  done  so.  Very 
fortunately,  the  opportunity  was  wanting.  Very  fortunately, 
too,  the  storm  had  not  yet  ceased  altogether,  and  the  two 
ladies  in  the  other  room  were  likely  to  be  too  busy  in  restor- 
ing and  being  restored,  to  hear  very  clearly  what  was  going 
on  within. 

"Back  !"  said  the  sharp  voice  of  the  sorceress,  at  the  im- 
passioned tone  of  the  last  words  and  that  clasping  of  the 
hands  which  told  that  the  subject  might  be  kneeling  the  next 
moment.  "  Back  !  No  nearer,  on  your  life  !  I  have  not 
the  power  of  life  and  death,  but  I  may  have  the  power  of 
happiness  and  misery.  ,  Go  ! — or  wish  that  you  had  done  so, 
till  the  very  day  you  die  !" 

Her  arm  was  stretched  out  with  a  queenly  gesture,  at  once 
of  warning  and  command.  Tom  Leslie  obeyed,  with  such  an 
effort  as  one  sometimes  makes  in  a  forced  arousing  from  sleep. 
He  took  one  more  glance  at  the  motionless  face  and  form,  then 
dashed  through  the  curtain  and  let  it  fall  behind  him.  Joe 
Harris  had  partially  recovered  from  her  excitement,  and  sat 
beside  Bell,  with  her  face  on  the  latter's  shoulder.  She  roused 
herself  and  even  attempted  a  laugh  with  some  success,  when 
the  voice  of  Leslie  was  heard  ;  and  if  for  one  instant  the  alle- 
giance of  the  young  man  had  wavered  in  the  presence  of  the 
unnatural  and  the  overwhelming,  there  was  something  in  that 
bright,  clear,  good  face,  only  temporarily  shadowed  by  her 
late  excitement,  calculated  to  restore  him  at  once  to  thought 
and  to  truth. 

Vrith  the  heavy  crash  of  thunder  which  had  accompanied 


216  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

if  it  Lad  not  caused  the  fright  of  the  young  girl,  the  storm 
Beemed  to  have  culminated  and  spent  itself;  and  by  this  time 
the  rain  had  nearly  ceased.  Not  a  word  passed  between  the 
three  as  to  what  had  occurred  to  either — any  conversation  on 
that  subject  was  naturally  reserved  for  another  place  and  a 
later  hour.  The  black  girl  came  out  again  from  behind  the 
curtain  and  received  with  a  "Thank  yon,  Monsieur !"  and  a 
curtsey  the  half  eagle  which  dropped  into  her  hand.  Leslie 
left  the  ladies  alone  for  a  moment,  ran  down  to  the  door  and 
found  a  carriage  :  and  in  a  few  moments,  without  further 
adventure,  the  three  were  on  their  way  up-town,  the  journalist 
to  return  again  to  his  evening  avocations,  after  accompanying 
the  two,  whose  disordered  nerves  he  scarcely  yet  dared  trust 
alone,  to  their  place  of  destination. 

If  during  that  ride  the  hand  of  Josephine  Harris,  a  little 
hot  and  feverish  from  late  excitement,  accidentally  fell  again 
into  his  own  and  rested  there  as  if  it  rather  liked  the  position 
— whose  business  was  it,  except  their  own  ? 


CHAPTER    XV. 


A  Peep  at  Camp  Lyon  and  the  Two  Hundredth  Regi- 
ment— Discipline  and  the  Dice-Box — How  Seven  Hun- 
dred Men  Can  Be  Squeezed  into  Three. 

"  I  am  going  to  West  Falls  again  in  a  few  days — that  is,  if 
we  do  not  get  orders  for  Washington,"  Colonel  Egbert  Craw- 
ford said,  speaking  to  his  cousin,  a  few  chapters  back,  as  may 
be  remembered.  By  which  he  meant,  of  course,  if  he  meant 
anything,  that  the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment,  with  the  rais- 
ing of  which  he  had  been  charged  by  Major- General  Governor 
Morgan,  was  in  a  high  state  of  discipline  as  well  as  fully  up 
to  the  maximum  in  numbers,  and  burning  to  go  down  to  the 
field  of  carnage  and  revenge  the  deaths  of  those  foully  slaugh- 
tered bv  rebel  hands. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  219 

It  may  be  interesting  to  know  exactly  what  was  the  con- 
dition of  the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment,  at  that  exact  time — 
how  many  it  numbered — what  was  its  proficiency  in  drill — 
what  was  the  appearance  of  the  camp  at  which  it  was  quar- 
tered— and  how  laboriously  Colonel  Crawford  was  engaged 
in  bringing  it  up  to  the  highest  standard  of  perfection  for 
citizen  soldiery.  For  this  purpose,  it  will  be  well  to  look  in 
at  the  encampment,  with  the  eyes  of  some  persons  from  the 
city  who  visited  it  on  Sunday  the  29th  of  June — the  very  day 
on  which  McClellan,  from  sheer  lack  of  troops,  abandoned 
the  White  House,  necessarily  destroying  so  -much  valuable 
property,  losing  for  the  time  the  last  hope  of  the  capture  of 
Richmond,  and  falling  back  on  the  line  of  the  James  River. 

The  Two  Hundredth  Regiment  lay  at  "  Camp  Lyon,"  (as 
it  may  be  designated  for  the  purposes  of  this  chronicle) — a 
locality  on  Long  Island,  a  few  miles  eastward  from  the  City 
Hall  of  Brooklyn,  and  easily  accessible  by  one  of  the  lines  of 
horse-cars  running  from  Fulton  Ferry.  It  had  been  some  two 
months  established ;  recruiting  for  the  regiment  was  said  to 
be  going  on  very  rapidly  ;  "only  a  few  more  men  wanted"  was 
the  burden  of  the  song  sung  in  the  advertising  columns  of  the 
morning  papers ;  rations  for  some  seven  hundred  men  were 
continually  furnished  for  it,  by  the  Quartermaster's  Depart- 
ment ;  the  Colonel  made  flattering  reports  of  it  every  day  or 
two,  to  the  higher  military  authorities  in  the  city,  and  at  least 
once  a  week  to  the  still  higher  authorities  at  Albany ;  and  a 
political  Brigadier-General  was  reported  to  have  gone  down 
and  reviewed  it,  once  or  twice,  coming  back  eminently  satisfied 
with  its  numbers,  discipline  and  performances. 

The  visitors  from  the  city,  who,  having  no  other  connection 
whatever  with  the  progress  of  this  story,  may  be  fobbed  off 
with  the  very  ordinary  names  of  Smith  and  Brown, — reached 
the  camp  at  about  four  o'clock  on  that  Sunday  afternoon, 
having  waited  until  that  late  hour  in  the  day  for  the  purpose 
of  avoiding  the  noon-tide  heat,  and  being  anxious  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  evening  drill,  which  was  supposed  to  take  place 
in  the  neighborhood  of  six  o'clock.  An  acquaintance  of 
theirs,  an  officer  in  the  Two  Hundredth,  one  Lieutenant 
Woodruff,  had  several  times  invited  them  to  "rundown  to 
li 


220  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

camp  and  see  him  before  he  went  away/'  promising  to  do  the 
honors  of  the  encampment  in  the  best  manner  compatible 
with  the  duties  of  a  "fellow  busy  all  the  time,  you  know."' 

Alighting  from  the  vehicle,  Smith  and  Brown  found  the 
camp  Btretwhmg  before  them,  scarcely  so  picturesque  as  they 
had  anticipated,  but  with  enough  of  the  military  air  about 
its  green  sod  and  conical  tents,  to  make  it  rather  varied  and 
pleasing  to  a  couple  of  "cits"  who  had  not  looked  upon  the 
extended  army  pageant  around  Washington,  or  seen  any- 
thing, more  of  war  than  could  be  observed  in  a  turn-out  of 
the  First  Division  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  On  a  broad  level, 
stretching  back  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  railroad - 
track,  and  terminating  in  a  strip  of  noble  oak  woods,  the 
tents  of  the  encampment  were  pitched,  forty  or  fifty  in  num- 
ber, not  too  white  and  cleanly-looking,  even  at  a  distance, 
and  decidedly  dingy  and  yellow  when  brought  to  a  nearer 
view.  Some  attempt  had  been  made  at  forming  them  into 
lines,  with  regular  alleys  between ;  the  hospital-tent  at  some 
distance  in  the  rear,  distinguished  by  a  yellow  flag  hanging 
listlessly  from  a  pole  in  front ;  and  the  Colonel's  large  round 
tent  or  marquee  prominent  in  the  centre,  a  small  American 
flag  before  it.  doing  its  best  to  wave  in  the  slight  sea  air  that 
came  in  over  the  Long  Island  hills.  Groups  of  soldiers, 
variously  disposed,  dotted  the  space  between  the  tents  or  sat 
at  the  doors,  chatting  with  male  or  female  civilians,  or  their 
own  wives  and  daughters,  who  had  run  down  to  see  them  as 
an  amusement  for  Sunday  afternoon ;  while  sentinels  paced 
backward  and  forward  along  certain  lines  and  offered  an  un- 
certain amount  of  inconvenience  to  those  who  wished  to 
traverse  the  camp-grounds  in  one  direction  or  another. 

Smith  and  Brown,  looking  for  Woodruff  and  finding  it  a 
matter  of  some  difficulty  to  discover  him,  paced  up  and  down 
among  the  tents,  wherever  the  sentinels  permitted,  looking  in 
at  the  doors  of  those  canvas  cottages  and  observing  the  humors 
which  denoted  that  the  occupants  had  been  the  possessors 
of  plenty  of  time  for  other  purposes  than  drill,  however  pro- 
ficient they  might  have  become  in  that  military  necessity. 
Scarcely  one  of  the  alleys  between  the  rows  of  tents  but  had 
its  street-name,  stuck  up  on  a  piece  of  chalked  or  charcoaled 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  221 

board  at  the  entrance — from  the  ambitious  "Broadway"  to 
the  aristocratic  "Fifth  Avenue"  and  the  doubtful  "Mercer 
Street."  Many  of  the  tents  bore  equally  significant  inscrip- 
tion, from  the  "City  Hall"  (where  some  scion  of  an  alderman 
probably  made  his  warlike  abode),  to  the  "  Astor  House"  and 
"  St.  Nicholas"  (where  perhaps  some  depreciated  son  of 
snobbery  was  known  to  have  his  quarters),  and  the  "Hotel 
de  Coffee  and  Cakes,"  suggestive  of  inmates  from  the  less 
pretentious  precincts  of  the  city.  AVithin  the  tents,  as  Smith 
and  Brown  took  the  liberty  of  looking  in,  a  variety  of  spec- 
tacles were  discovered.  Straw  seemed  to  be  an  almost  uni- 
versal commodity — quite  as  indispensable  there  as  in  pig- 
pens or  railroad-cars  ;  and  next  to  straw,  perhaps  battered 
trunks  and  very  cheap  pine  tables  predominated.  Greasy 
kettles  and  dishes  could  be  discovered  just  under  the  flap  of 
the  tent,  in  many  instances  ;  and  here  and  there  a  tent  would 
be  passed,  emitting  odors  of  rancid  grease,  stale  tobacco  and 
personal  foulness,  not  at  all  appetizing  to  visitors  unfamiliar 
with  the  gutters  of  Mackerelville  or  the  hold  of  a  ship  in  the 
horse-latitudes. 

In  some  of  the  tents  the  men  were  asleep  on  the  tables,  in 
others  on  the  trunks,  in  still  others  on  the  straw.  In  a  few 
Smith  and  Brown  saw  soldiers  drinking ;  in  others,  in  posi- 
tions suggestive  of  being  very  drunk,  had  they  found  them 
elsewhere  than  in  a  well-regulated  camp ;  in  still  others 
playing  cards  for  pennies,  furtively  behind  the  flaps  of  the 
tent  or  openly  in  the  vicinity  of  the  door.  They  caught 
fragments  of  broad  oaths  from  a  few,  aad  snatches  of  obscene 
stories  from  a  few  others ;  and  taken  altogether,  the  im- 
pression of  the  Two  Hundredth  being  in  a  high  state  of 
discipline  or  a  very  excellent  sanitary  condition,  was  not 
strongly  forced  upon  their  minds.  This  impression  was  not 
strengthened,  when,  being  directed  by  one  of  the  sentries  to 
the  hospital-tent  as  a  place  where  they  might  be  likely  at  that 
moment  to  find  Lieutenant  Woodruff, — they  failed  to  discover 
him  there,  but  did  not  fail  to  discover  one  corporal  keeping 
guard  in  that  sanitary  clomicil,  so  drunk  that  he  was  asleep 
and  so  drunkenly  abusive  when  they  woke  him  that  they 


222  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

were  glad  to  permit  him  to  fall  back  again  into  his  beastly 
slumber. 

At  length  they  found  Lieutenant  Woodruff,  who  had  just 
returned  from  escorting  another  party  of  friends  to  the  cars, 
on  their  way  back  to  town.  He  seemed  glad  to  see  them, 
though  not  enthusiastic  in  his  demonstrations — invited  them 
to  the  tent  in  which  he  messed  with  some  brother  officers — 
and  they  took  that  direction  for  a  rest  after  their  hot  prome- 
nade. 

Somewhat  to  the  apparent  mortification  of  Woodruff,  when 
they  reached  the  tent  none  of  the  brother  officers  to  whom  he 
had  promised  to  introduce  his  friends,  were  to  be  found  ;  but 
they  had  left  their  traces  behind  them.  Two  or  three  empty 
bottles  and  as  many  uncleaned  glasses  lay  about  the  table, 
and  the  remains  of  spilt  liquor  wetted  and  stained  the  boards 
of  the  seats,  while  a  very  dirty  pack  of  cards,  half  on  the 
table  and  the  remainder  on  the  ground,  showed  that  the 
officers  were  not  only  a  little  unscrupulous  as  to  the  character 
of  their  Sunday  amusements,  but  equally  indifferent  as  to  the 
cleanliness  of  the  tools  with  which  they  performed  the  ardu- 
ous labors  of  old-sledge,  euchre  and  division-loo.  Woodruff 
cleared  away  the  debris  from  the  table,  and  flung  it  into  one 
corner  with  some  petulance  which  did  not  escape  the  notice 
of  his  visitors.  Finally  part  of  a  box  of  bad  cigars  was  in- 
troduced, and  among  the  fumes  engendered  by  those  indis- 
pensable "  weeds,"  a  little  conversation  followed. 

"  Well,  when  do  you  get  off?"  asked  Smith,  who  had  beerr 
very  anxious  to  come  on  that  Sunday,  instead  of  waiting  for 
the  next,  under  the  impression  that  the  regiment  might  move 
at  any  time  and  thus  deprive  them  of  the  visit.  He  had  been 
led  to  suppose  so,  partially  from  conversations  with  Woodruff 
in  the  city,  and  partially  by  the  statements  in  the  newspapers, 
before  alluded  to,  made  with  reference  to  this  and  other 
"favorite  regiments." 

"  Get  off !"  answered  Woodruff,  with  no  concealment  of 
the  vexation  in  his  tone.  "Humph  !  well,  I  think  we  shall 
need  to  get  on  a  little  faster,  before  we  get  off  at  all !" 

n  Not  full  yet,  eh  ?"  asked  Brown. 

"  Not  exactly,"  was  the  answer  of  the  Lieutenant,  with  a 


SHOULDEK-STKAPS.  223 

satirical  emphasis  on  the  second  word  which  indicated  that 
some  other  would  have  been  quite  as  well  in  place. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  were  !"  said  Smith.  "  The  papers 
had  you  up  to  seven  hundred  some  time  ago,  and  with  all 
your  big  posters  and  advertisements  and  the  large  bounties 
offered,  you  ought  to  be  bringing  them  in  very  rapidly." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so  !"  answered  Woodruff.  "  We  ought  to 
do  a  good  many  things  in  this  world,  that  we  do  not  find  it 
convenient  to  do.  We  ought  to  have  been  full,  and  off  to 
Washington,  a  month  ago,  and  would  have  been,  if  there  had 
been  any  management." 

"  Why  you  speak  as  if  you  were  discouraged  and  dissat- 
isfied," said  Brown,  "  and  not  at  all  as  you  talked  to  us  when 
in  the  city  a  few  days  ago." 

"No,  probably  not,"  answered  the  Lieutenant.  "Well,  the 
fact  is,  boys,  that  I  have  been  lying  to  you  like — (and  here 
he  used  a  very  hard  word  not  necessary  to  be  recorded.)  We 
have  all  been  lying ;  but  to  you,  at  least,  I  mean  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it.  I  did  not  suppose  you  would  come  down, 
and  while  you  kept  at  a  distance  I  thought  we  might  as  well 
keep  up  a  good  reputation.  Xow  that  you  are  here,  you  have 
not  half  an  eye  if  you  do  not  know  that  '  Camp  Lyon '  is  a 
humbug,  and  that  there  is  no  discipline  or  anything  else  in  it 
that  should  be  here.  I  am  going  to  get  out  of  it,  if  I  can 
with  any  honor." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Smith,  very  much  disap- 
pointed, and  very  much  discouraged  at  the  key  which  the 
situation  of  Camp  Lyon  seemed  to  offer  to  the  corresponding 
situation  of  many  others  of  the  crack  recruiting  stations  de- 
pended upon  for  filling  up  the  reduced  ranks  of  the  army. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Everything  !"  said  Woodruff,  fairly 
launched  out  in  an  exposure  of  the  abuses  of  the  recruiting 
service,  for  which  he  had  not  before  had  a  fair  and  safe  op- 
portunity. "  Half  the  men  are  good  for  nothing,  and  almost 
all  the  officers  worse.  We  could  get  along  with  worthless 
men,  and  perhaps  make  soldiers  of  them,  if  we  only  had 
officers  worth  their  salt.  Field  or  line,  there  is  not  one  in 
three  that  knows  when  a  '  shoulder-arms '  is  correctly  made  ; 
and  there  is  no  more  attempt  at  either  study  or  practice  than 


224  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

there  would  be  if  we  were  a  hunting  party  encamped  in  the 
Northern  woods.  Commissions  have  been  issued  to  anybody 
supposed  to  possess  some  political  influence  ;  and  subordinate 
commissions  have  been  promised  by  the  higher  officer.-  to 
any  one  who  offered  to  bring  in  a  certain  number  of  rap- 
scallions or  pay  down  a  certain  sum  of  money.  Those  who 
are  not  drunken,  are  lazy ;  and  the  men  know  about  as  much 
of  wholesome  discipline  as  a  hog  knows  of  holy-water.  I 
have  tried  to  do  a  little  better  with  some  of  the  squads  of  my 
own  company ;  but  I  think  that  complaints  have  been  made 
that  I  '  overworked  '  the  men,  and  I  have  fallen  into  decidedly 
bad  odor  with  the  good  people  up  at  the  big  house  yonder." 

"And  who  are  theyV-  asked  Brown,  wofully  ignorant  of 
the  details  of  recruiting  in  1802.  "  And  what  are  they  doing 
up  at  the  '  big  house,'  as  you  call  it  *?" 

"  Eh  '?  you  haven't  been  in  there,  have  you  ?"  said  Wood- 
ruff. "  Come  along  then,  and  see.  Of  course  you  know  that 
I  must  refer  to  our  gallant  Colonel  and  the  other  leading 
officers  at  the  head  of  the  regiment ;  and  of  course  you  are 
not  so  green  as  not  to  know  that  the  big  house  beyond  the 
railroad  track,  there,  is  a  tavern.  Come  along  and  let  us  see 
what  Colonel  Crawford  and  the  rest  of  them  happen  to  be 
doing ;  and  by  the  time  that  is  over  we  shall  have  our 
'evening  parade,' which  you  must  certainly  see  before  you  go 
home." 

Escorted  by  the  Lieutenant,  the  two  citizens  took  their 
way  to  the  "  big  house" — a  hotel  standing  on  the  north  side 
of  the  railroad  track  and  very  near  it — a  wooden  building  of 
two  stories,  with  a  piazza  in  front  and  at  the  east  end,  and 
flanked  by  a  row  of  horse-sheds  indicating  that  there  was 
some  dependence  made  upon  the  patronage  of  fast  drivers 
stopping  there  on  race  days  or  when  trotting  was  peculiarly 
good  on  the  pike  or  the  plank.  Before  the  house  paced  two 
sentries,  with  muskets  at  the  shoulder,  though  what  they  were 
guarding  was  not  so  clear,  as  every  one  passed  who  wished 
to  do  so,  whether  in  uniform  or  citizen's  dress.  Behind  the 
corner  of  the  piazza,  eastward,  an  officer  was  leaning  back  in 
his  chair  against  the  clap-boards,  with  his  hat  over  his  eyes 
and  apparently  asleep  ;  and  a  few  feet  from  him  a  sergeant, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  225 

distinguishable  by  three  dingy  stripes  on  his  arm  that  should 
have  been  laid  upon  his  back,  was  toying,  not  too  decently, 
with  a  woman  whose  looks  and  manners  both  proclaimed 
her  one  of  the  "  necessary  evils"  of  a  modern  community. 

"  Do  they  allow  such  actions  as  that — right  here  in  public, 
and  in  the  very  presence  of  the  officers  ?"  asked  Smith, 
whose  education  had  possibly  been  a  little  neglected  in  some 
other  particulars,  as  Brown's  had  been  in  the  details  of  the 
military  profession. 

"  Guess  so  1"  was  the  significant  reply  of  Woodruff.  "  Come 
up  stairs  !"  and  the  party  passed  on.  As  they  did  so,  they 
looked  through  a  door  to  the  left,  and  saw  a  bar  of  unplaned 
boards  extending  the  whole  length  of  a  spacious  room,  with 
half  a  dozen  attendants  behind  it  and  as  many  beer  kegs  and 
whiskey  decanters  pouring  out  their  contents.  Mingled  with 
here  and  there  a  civilian,  the  whole  front  of  the  bar  was  full 
of  soldiers,  all  apparently  drinking,  and  drinking  again,  and 
drinking  yet  again,  nibbling  cheese,  crackers  and  smoked- 
beef  meanwhile,  apparently  to  keep  up  the  necessary  thirst. 
"  Fire  and  fall  back  !"  seemed  to  be  a  military  axiom  not 
always  observed  by  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Two  Hundredth, 
as  many  of  them  kept  their  places  and  went  on  with  their 
guzzling,  with  a  determination  worthy  of  a  much  better 
cause.  But  it  was  occasionally  observed,  after  all,  for  there 
were  a  few  who  had  been  overcome  by  the  heat  of  the  bibu- 
latory  conflict,  and  who  had  relapsed  into  partial  helpless- 
ness in  chairs  around  the  walls ;  and  there  were  others  who 
began  to  stagger  and  talk  thickly  at  the  counter,  growing 
obscure  and  maudlin  in  their  oaths,  and  shaking  hands  alto- 
gether too  often,  indicating  the  sleepy  stage  as  very  soon  to 
follow. 

As  the  two  friends  and  their  conductor  passed  up-stairs, 
they  noticed  two  officers  in  somewhat  loud  conversation,  not 
far  from  the  landing  and  near  the  door  of  a  side-room,  on  the 
handle  of  the  door  of  which  one  of  them  held  his  hand  a  por- 
tion of  the  time.  Without  any  effort,  some  of  the  words  of 
their  conversation  could  easily  be  heard  ;  and  Smith  and 
Brown,  who  had  no  more  than  the  avera<ffe  of  that  creditable 
delicacy  which  hears  nothing  intended  only  for  other  ears, 


226  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

caught  some  words  which  will  bear  setting  down  here  as 
affording  an  additional  clue  to  the  state  of  discipline. 

"  That,"  said  Woodruff,  giving  Smith  a  nudge  as  they 
came  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  and 
pointing  to  the  taller  of  the  two  men,  who  stood  with  his 
side-face  presented  at  the  moment, — "  that  is  Colonel  Craw- 
ford ;  and  the  other,  the  shorter  man,  is  Captain  Lowndes, 
who  has  been  recruiting  for  the  regiment  at  the  Park.  If  I 
was  in  better  odor  with  the  Colonel,  I  would  introduce  you ; 
but  come  on." 

Smith  and  Jones  did  not  "  come  on"  at  the  instant,  and 
what  they  caught  from  the  two  officers  was  the  following : 

"  Xot  one  in  a  week  ?"  asked  the  Colonel,  in  a  tone  min- 
gling surprise  and  anger.     "  Not  one  ?"     D — n  it !" 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,  not  one,"  was  the  reply  of  Captain 
Lowndes.     "  They  nearly  all  sing  the  same  tune,  however." 

"Well,  it  won't  do  for  vs,  you  know!"  said  the  Colonel. 
"  Another  review,  and  by  some  officer  who  was  not  a  d — d 
lawyer  blockhead,  might  be  awkward  !"  Colonel  Crawford 
either  forgot,  at  that  moment,  that  he  had  any  connection 
with  the  legal  profession,  or  he  chose  to  ignore  the  fact ;  and 
it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  his  subordinate  reminded  him 

of  it.     "  We  must  have  a  paragraph  in  the to-morrow 

morning,"  he  went  on,  naming  an  influential  daily,  "  giving 
the  regiment  another  'blow.'  If  it  does  not  get  us  any 
recruits,  it  will  at  least  make  the  thing  look  better  at  Albany. 
Hum — where's  Dalton  ?" 

"  The  Adjutant  went  to  Boston  yesterday,"  was  the  re- 
sponse of  Lowndes.  "  Said  he  had  business,  though  as  he 
had  a  girl  with  him  when  he  stepped  on  board  the  boat,  I 
suspect  his  business  was  rather  personal." 

"  D — n  him  !"  muttered  the  Colonel,  between  his  teeth. 
Then  louder,  to  Lowndes  :  "  I  thought  I  told  you  to  request 
him,  if  you  saw  him,  not  to  leave  the  city  again  without  per- 
mission from  me !  It  seems  you  have  seen  him ;  and  why 
were  my  orders  not  obeyed  ?"  The  Colonel  spoke  now  with 
great  dignity,  and  drew  himself  up  so  that  the  eagles  on  his 
shoulder-straps  were  at  least  half  an  inch  higher  than  when 
he  was  squatted  down  into  easy  position 


SHOULDER- STRAPS.  227 

"  Your  orders  were  obeyed,"  answered  the  Captain.  "  I  did 
tell  him  " 

"  And  what  did  he  say  ?"  asked  the  Colonel,  lifting  his 
eyebrows  with  some  appearance  of  interest. 

"  lie  said,"  replied  the  Captain,  enunciating  his  words  very 
clearly,  as  if  he  had  no  objection  to  their  producing  their  full 
weight  on  his  superior — "  That  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford 
might  go  to  h — 11,  and  he  would  go  to  Boston." 

"Did  he? — d — n  him!"  said  the  Colonel,  who  seemed  to 
have  a  small  bottle  of  profanity  lately  uncorked,  or  one  that 
he  certainly  was  not  in  the  habit  of  uncorking  in  the  presence 
of  those  on  whom  he  wished  to  produce  a  different  impression. 

"  Yes  he  did,"  answered  the  Captain.  "  He  said  a  little. 
more.     Perhaps  you  would  like  to  have  that,  while  I  am  at  it  ?" 

"  That  ? — yes,  out  with  the  whole  of  it !"  spoke  the  Colonel, 
with  another  oath  which  need  not  be  recorded  here  as  any 
additional  seasoning. 

"  He  took  occasion  to  remark,  where  the  lady  who  was  with 
him  could  hear  it,"  Lowndes  went  on — "that  he  didn't  care 
a  d — n  for  you,  and  that  you  dare  not  make  a  complaint  against 
him  at  Albany,  a  bit  more  than  you  dare  jump  into  a  place 
that  is  even  hotter  than  the  weather  is  here  to-day." 

"  Did  he — the  infernal  hound  !"  broke  out  the  Colonel,  his 
dark  brows  literally  corrugated  with  rage.  "  I'll  teach  him 
whether  I  dare  or  not,  before  I  am  forty-eight  hours  older !" 
But  either  there  was  something  behind  the  curtain,  or  Colonel 
Egbert  Crawford  was  a  man  of  most  angelic  temper,  for  the 
moment  after  he  broke  out  into  a  laugh  that  was  not  of  the 
most  musical  order,  and  said  :  "  Oh,  well — Dalton  is  a  pretty 
good  fellow,  after  all,  and  perhaps  the  next  Adjutant  would 
be  a  worse  one  for  the  regiment." 

With  these  words  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  passed  into  the 
side  room  by  the  door  of  which  he  had  been  standing,  while 
Captain  Lowndes  touched  his  hat  to  him  very  slightly  and 
went  on  to  the  larger  room  towards  which  the  others  were 
proceeding.  As  the  Colonel  swung  back  the  door,  Smith 
caught  a  very  quick  glance  within,  and  saw  a  table,  with  bot- 
tles, a  pack  of  cards,  a  couple  of  dice-boxes,  and  four  or  five 
persons  seated,  lounging  and  smoking.     The  party  appeared 


223  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

to  him  as  if  they  might  have  been  interrupted  in  a  little  harm- 
less Sunday  afternoon  amusement,  and  as  if  they  were  only 
waiting  for  the  return  of  the  Colonel  to  the  room,  to  renew 
that  amusement  in  a  very  pleasant  and  effective  manner.  That 
impression  was  not  removed  by  his  hearing,  after  he  had  passed 
through  the  open  door  into  the  other  room,  a  suspicious  sound 
like  the  rattling  of  dice  and  another  sound  very  like  the  cl 
ing  of  coin,  proceeding  from  the  smaller  apartment. 

Smith  and  Brown  found  very  little  in  the  officers'  room, 
dignified  by  the  name  of  "  regimental  head-quarters,"  demand- 
ing particular  record.  There  were  two  red  pine  tables  set  to- 
gether and  forming  a  counter,  behind  which  the  regimental 
officers  were  supposed  to  be  located  ;  and  on  the  end  of  the 
tables  nearest  the  front  of  the  house  was  a  small  desk,  with 
pigeon-holes,  at  which,  by  the  same  fiction,  the  Adjutant  was 
supposed  to  be  always  sitting,  performing  the  arduous  duties 
of  his  office.  Supported  by  nails  in  the  ceiling  were  two  flag- 
staffs,  their  butts  shaped  to  fit  the  muzzles  of  short  rifles,  and 
from  the  upper  end  of  each  depending  one  of  the  "guidons" 
of  the  regiment,  gorgeously  blue  in  color  and  lettered  in  shaded 
gol'l — understood  to  be  the  gift  of  certain  ladies  who  properly 
appreciated  the  talents  and  devotion  of  the  officers  and  the 
hopeful  prospects  of  the  regiment  under  formation.  Behind 
the  tables  was  a  mantel ;  and  on  it  stood  two  decanters 
partially  filled  with  liquor,  a  plate  of  crackers  and  another  of 
cheese.  A  Lieutenant  was  seated  at  the  Adjutant's  desk,  en- 
gaged in  filling  up  blank  leaves-of-absence  for  each  in  turn,  of 
a  disorderly  crowd  of  twenty  or  thirty  soldiers  who  pressed 
forward  from  the  door  to  receive  them.  Two  or  three  of  this 
crowd  presented  former  leaves,  to  have  them  extended.  One 
of  these  was  refused,  the  Lieutenant  laboring  under  some  sort 
of  impression  that  a  private  who  had  been  three  weeks  under 
enlistment,  and  absent  all  that  time  on  leave,  would  not 
become  very  proficient  in  drill  unless  he  spent  at  least  one 
week  at  the  encampment  before  marching.  The  wronged 
man  did  not  appear  to  take  the  refusal  very  much  to  heart, 
however :  he  merely  remarked  to  one  of  the  others,  loud  enough 
for  the  Lieutenant  to  have  beard  if  he  had  been  very  observant, 
that  "he  didn't  care  two  cusses  for  the  leave  :  he  would  go  off 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  229 

when  he  liked  and  stay  as  long  as  he  liked,  and  he  should  like 
to  see  anybody  smart  enough  to  stop  him." 

At  the  mantel,  taking  a  quiet  drink  with  half  a  dozen 
civilian  friends  who  had  been  admitted  behind  the  tables, 
stood  a  tall,  soldierly-looking  man,  pointed  out  by  Woodruff 
as  Lieut.  Colonel  Burns.  Unaccountably,  he  wore  no  straps 
on  the  shoulder,  his  blue  blouse  looking  as  if  it  was  thrown 
on  for  use  instead  of  show,  and  his  whole  demeanor  that  of  a 
man  who,  if  opportunity  should  only  be  given  him,  would  be 
a  soldier.  He  had  his  sword-belts  at  the  waist,  however,  and 
also  wore  his  sword,  as  if  he  had  some  indefinite  idea  that 
something  would  thereby  be  gained  in  an  appearance  of  effi- 
ciency for  the  regiment. 

"  Have  you  seen  almost  enough  ?"  asked  Lieutenant  Wood- 
ruff, of  the  two  citizens. 

"Quite  enough  1"  said  both  in  a  breath 

"Well,  time  is  just  up,"  said  the  Lieutenant.  "And  in 
good  time  comes  the  drum-beat  for  evening  parade.  Come 
along,  and  see  what  it  is  like.  I  must  leave  you,  but  you  can 
see  the  display  without  me." 

A  couple  of  snare-drums  were  rattling  somewhere  among 
the  tents,  and  the  shrill  notes  of  a  light  infantry  bugle  sounded. 
Lieut.  Colonel  Burns  buckled  his  sword  belts  a  little  tighter 
and  straightened  himself  to  a  soldierly  bearing,  as  he  left  the 
room  with  his  friends.  A  sergeant  took  down  the  guidons, 
and  all,  except  the  one  Lieutenant  at  the  desk  and  two  or 
three  soldiers  who  did  not  consider  the  call  as  of  sufficient 
consequence,  followed  them  down  to  the  parade-ground  in 
front  of  the  camp.  Col.  Egbert  Crawford  seemed  to  be  like 
the  two  or  three  soldiers  named,  and  not  to  consider  the  call 
of  consequence  enough  to  demand  any  attention  on  his  part ; 
for  he  did  not,  at  least  during  the  stay  of  Smith  and  Brown, 
emerge  from  the  privacy  of  the  inner  room  or  make  any 
movement  to  superintend  the  "dress  parade." 

That  "dress  parade"  completed  the  experience  of  Smith 
and  Brown  ;  and  it  completed,  at  the  same  time,  their  knowl- 
edge of  the  numbers  and  efficiency  of  the  Two  Hundredth 
Regiment  that  was  "almost  ready  to  march."  In  squads  of 
from  ten  to  twenty-five,   the    soldiers   gathered    from    their 


230  SHOULDEli-STKAPS. 

slovenly  tents,  until  the  observers  eould  count  something 
more  than  two  hundred.  Then  by  squads  and  afterwards  in 
what  was  intended  as  a  "regimental  formation,"  they  went 
through  a  series  of  marchings,  countermarchings  and  facings, 
with  about  the  proficiency  which  would  be  shown  by  the 
same  number  of  entirely  raw  recruits,  and  with  the  same 
proportion  of  the  most  obvious  blunderings  that  used  to  be 
exhibited  by  the  "slab-conipanies"  at  the  "general  trainings" 
or  "general  musters"  in  the  country  sections,  when  a  lamenta- 
ble caricature  upon  military  spirit  was  kept  up,  in  the  years 
following  the  War  of  1812. 

Not  a  musket  was  to  be  seen  in  the  hands  of  one  of  these 
men,  except  the  few  sentries.  They  "had  not  been  fur- 
nished," as  the  explanation  was  sure  to  be  given  afterwards 
when  the  regiment  was  discovered  to  be  an  undisciplined 
mob  !  They  would  probably  not  be  "furnished''  until  just  at 
the  moment  when  the  regiment  should  be  forced  to  move,  and 
then  they  would  be  put  into  hands  liable  to  be  called  on  to 
use  them  in  battle  within  a  week — those  hands  knowing  no 
more  of  the  management  of  the  deadly  instrument  of  modern 
warfare,  than  so  many  Sioux  or  South  Sea  Islanders  might 
have  known  of  watch-making  or  extracting  the  cube-root. 

And  yet  with  these  men,  and  in  this  manner,  the  armies  of 
the  republic  were  being  recruited  ;  and  on  the  deeds  in  arms 
wrought  by  these  men,  possibly  in  the  very  first  conflict  into 
which  they  were  rushed  like  huddled  sheep,  the  eyes  of  the 
military  nations  of  Europe  were  to  be  turned  with  anxious 
interest.  They  were  to  fight,  too,  against  a  race  of  men  to 
whom  deadly  weapons  had  been  familiar  from  childhood,  and 
who  would  consequently  make  soldiers,  to  the  full  extent  of 
their  capability,  with  one-half  the  training  which  was  to 
these  Northern  men  an  absolute  necessity  !  Is  it  any  wonder 
that  we  have  occasionally  met  with  a  Bull  Run  or  a  Second 
Field  of  Manassas,  with  this  shameful  waste  of  our  opportu- 
nities and  our  war-material  ? 

Smith  and  Brown  left  "  Camp  Lyon,"  before  the  comple- 
tion of  the  "dress  parade,"  with  a  dim  consciousness  of  being 
painfully  disenchanted  in  a  very  important  particular. 

"  Do  you  know,  Smith,"  said  Brown,  as  they  were  roiling 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  231 

along  in  the  car,  homeward— "that  I  doubt  whether  there 
arc  three  hundred  men  in  that  regiment,  absentees  and  all — 
instead  of  seven  hundred  as  the  papers  report  ?" 

"Humph,"  said  Smith,  "it  seems  to  be  all  a  humbug 
together !  But  I  wonder  what  becomes  of  the  extra  pay  issued 
to  seven  hundred  men,  when  there  are  only  three  hundred 
entitled  to  receive  it  ?  And  I  wonder  what  becomes  of  all 
the  extra  rations  that  are  drawn  for  them  every  day  ?  Some- 
body must  be  making  something  out  of  it — eh  ?  I  wonder 
if  there  are  any  more  regiments  in  the  same  condition  ?" 

"  Probably  !"  said  Brown.  Whereupon  the  two  citizens 
fell  into  a  very  deep  and  silent  train  of  thought,  leaving  us 
no  additional  speech  to  record. 

Other  people  than  Smith,  at  about  that  time,  felt  like  pro- 
pounding the  same  queries  as  to  the  disposition  of  extra  pay 
and  rations.  Some  of  those  queries,  which  have  been  pro- 
pounded, have  not  yet  been  answered.  When  they  are,  if 
that  happy  period  ever  arrives,  we  may  know  something 
more  of  the  channels  and  sluices  through  which  the  wealth 
of  the  richest  nation  on  the  globe  has  ebbed  away,  leaving 
such  inconsiderable  results  to  show  for  the  expenditure. 

Andy  yet  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford,  visiting  the  city  two 
hours  afterwards,  and  dropping  in  at  two  or  three  favorite 
resorts  of  men  who  talked  horse,  war  and  politics,  on  his  way 
to  the  house  of  his  cousin, — bore  himself  bravely  under  his 
weight  of  uniform,  and  more  than  once  threw  in  a  pardonable 
boast  over  the  services  he  was  rendering  the  country,  the 
sacrifices  he  was  making,  and  the  rapid  growth  and  efficiency 
of  the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment. 

"All  brass  is  not  fashioned  and  moulded  in  foundries, 
where  men  do  swelter  like  to  those  standing  in  the  flames  of 
the  fiery  furnace,"  says  an  old  writer,  Arnold  of  Thorndean, 
11  but  much  of  it  doth  become  shaped  in  the  human  counte- 
nance." 


232  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

CHAPTER  XYI. 

Two  Modes  of  Writing  Romances — More  of  the  Up-town 
Mystery — A  Watch,  an  Escape,  and  a  Police  Post- 
mortem on  a  Vacant  House. 

The  question  may  have  been  asked,  before  this  point  in 
narration,  by  some  of  those  who  have  been  induced  to  follow 
the  progress  of  this  story — What  has  become  of  some  of  the 
prominent  characters  first  introduced,  Dexter  Ralston,  the 
stalwart  Virginian,  and  the  girl  Kate,  who  seemed  at  that 
time  to  be  so  closely  identified  with  the  movements  of  the 
"red  woman."  The  curiosity  is  a  natural  one,  whether 
there  really  was  such  a  secret  of  disloyalty,  hidden  away 
either  in  the  house  on  Prince  Street  or  that  on  East  5 — ,  as 
justified  Tom  Leslie  and  Walter  Harding  in  their  long  ride 
at  midnight  and  their  subsequent  interview  with  Police- 
Superintendent  Kennedy.  To  some  extent  this  question  can 
be  answered,  at  this  point ;  but  there  will  still  remain  some 
mysteries  unexplainable  until  the  end  of  this  narration,  and 
even  some  impossible  to  elucidate  until  the  close  of  the  war 
and  the  re-union  of  Northern  and  Southern  society  on  the 
old  basis,  makes  it  possible  to  reveal  all  that  may  have 
occurred  during  the  conflict. 

There  are  two  modes  in  which  romances  can  be  written. 
The  first,  and  perhaps  the  more  popular,  is  that  in  which  no 
bound  whatever  is  set  by  either  probability  or  conscience — in 
which  the  narrator  assumes  to  know  what  never  could  be 
known  except  to  an  omniscient  being,  and  to  describe  such 
circumstances  as  never  could  have  occurred  in  any  world 
under  the  same  general  regulations  as  our  own.  To  this 
writer,  no  doors  are  barred,  and  from  him  the  secret  of  no 
heart  can  be  hidden.  He  has  no  difficulty  whatever  in  re- 
tracing the  path  of  history,  back  to  the  days  of  Michael  Paleo- 
logus  or  Timour  the  Tartar,  and  describing  the  viands  set 
upon  their  tables  and  the  thoughts  that  may  have  entered 
their  brains  ;  while  in  events  of  the  present  day  he  finds  no 
more  trouble  in  describing  circumstantially  the  last  moments 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  233 

of  a  traveller  dying  alone  at  the  North  Pole  or  in  the  midst 
of  the  most  trackless  waste  of  Sahara.  The  manner  in  which 
he  became  possessed  of  the  facts  narrated,  is  held  to  be  a 
matter  of  very  little  consequence;  and  if  he  lacks  the  op- 
portunity of  calling  other  witnesses  or  surrounding  circum- 
stances to  corroborate  him,  he  at  least  is  removed  from  the 
fear  of  any  authoritative  contradiction.  The  reader,  of 
course,  would  sometimes  be  grateful  for  a  little  insight  into 
what  is  so  impenetrably  hidden  ;  and  if  the  links  binding  the 
narrator  to  his  subject  were  made  a  little  plainer  to  the 
naked  eye,  perhaps  more  general  satisfaction  might  be  given. 
When,  for  instance,  in  the  ''Legend  of  the  Terrible  Tower," 
Sir  Bronzeface  the  Implacable  is  shown  as  threatening  the 
Lady  Charmengarde  with  the  most  cruel  tortures  his  slighted 
love  and  growing  hate  can  devise — when  the  very  words  of 
that  atrocious  monster  are  set  down  as  carefully  as  if  they  had 
been  taken  from  his  lips  by  the  rapid  pencil  of  the  stenog- 
rapher— and  when  in  the  context  we  learn  that  in  the  midst 
of  his  threaten  in gs,  the  thousand  barrels  of  gunpowder  se- 
cretly stored  in  another  part  of  the  castle  for  the  purpose  of 
arming  a  million  of  retainers  to  make  a  deadly  onslaught  on 
the  stronghold  of  his  hated  rival  the  Lord  of  Hardcheek, 
suddenly  takes  fire,  and  the  castle,  with  both  the  interlocutors 
and  all  others  who  could  possibly  be  present,  is  seen  hurled 
into  infinitesimal  fragments, — there  is  some  unavoidable  cu- 
riosity in  the  mind  of  the  reader,  at  this  juncture,  to  know 
precisely  how  these  very  words  and  actions  became  known  to 
the  narrator,  as  well  as  how  the  gunpowder  was  manufac- 
tured in  the  year  of  grace  nine  hundred  and  eighty-four. 

For  corresponding  knowledge  of  events  in  the  actual  pres- 
ent, the  believers  in  clairvoyance  may  be  able  to  offer  some 
explanation  ;  but,  unfortunately  or  the  reverse,  the  believers 
in  effective  clairvoyance  are  in  a  very  meagre  minority  ;  and 
the  world  will  cling  a  little  tenaciously  to  the  belief  that  what 
cannot  be  seen,  heard,  or  otherwise  realized  by  the  recognized 
natural  senses,  cannot  be  definitely  ascertained.  Let  it  not 
be  for  one  moment  supposed,  meanwhile,  that  romances  con- 
structed on  such  bases  will  be  less  popular  than  those  which 
have  more  reason  and  probability  at  the  bottom  ;  for  the  ma- 


234  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

jority  of  novel-readers  desire  to  be  frightened,  mystified  or 

idly  amused  ;  and  perhaps  that  writer  who  makes  thought  a 
condition  of  reading  and  understanding  what  he  writes,  com- 
mits the  most  silly  of  crimes  against  his  own  pocket  and 
reputation. 

The  other  mode  in  which  romances  can  be  written,  is  that 
in  which  the  writer  only  details  that  which  he  has  enjoyed  an 
opportunity  to  know,  embodying  with  them  such  speculations 
and  reflections  as  seem  legitimately  to  grow  out  of  the  sub- 
ject. This  mode  is  unquestionably  an  unprofitable  one  to 
employ ;  but  unfortunately  this  narration  can  be  conducted 
on  no  other.  Actual  events  and  conversations  only  are 
given,  and  no  speculations  as  to  what  might  have  been  can  be 
indulged.  It  might  have  been  very  easy  to  depict  a  disloyal 
or  "  secesh  "  household  in  this  city,  and  a  club  of  fashionable 
people  with  pro-slavery  sympathies,  meeting  periodically, with 
grips,  signs  and  passwords,  and  exercising  an  injurious  influ- 
ence on  the  National  cause  by  holding  clandestine  corres- 
pondence with  rebels  in  the  revolted  States.  That  such  house- 
holds have  existed  in  this  city  during  the  entire  struggle,  and 
that  such  combinations  of  disloyal  men  have  been  doing  their 
worst  to  cripple  the  government  and  distract  the  nation,  no 
rational  man  doubts  for  a  moment.  But  no  loyal  citizen  has 
been  admitted  behind  the  curtain,  in  either  of  the  supposable 
instances.  No  one  could  have  been,  and  still  remained  loyal, 
without  making  such  public  revelations  in  the  interest  of 
patriotism,  that  any  pretended  private  revelation  must  neces- 
sarily have  become  a  farce.  No  one,  especially,  would  have 
held  any  such  secret  for  months,  and  then  divulged  it  in  the 
ambiguous  mode  of  a  romance,  while  arbitrary  arrests  and 
unexplained  imprisonments  were  making  the  once  free  States 
of  the  Old  Union  a*  second  Venice.  Suspicious  circumstances 
have  been  observed,  and  suspicious  persons  put  under  watch ; 
but  if  anything  more  than  mere  suspicion  has  been  reached, 
the  disloyal  persons  themselves,  and  the  government,  are  the 
only  parties  who  possess  the  information. 

All  this,  to  say  that  the  materials  for  this  narration  have 
not  been  gathered  from  disloyal  sources  or  found  in  disloyal 
company,  and  that,  as  a  consequence,  it  does  not  enter  within 


S1I0U  L  DEK- STRAPS.  235 

doors  closed  to  true  men,  by  any  magic  key  of  the  mind  or 
the  imagination.  And  if  any  mystery  suggested,  from  that 
cause  remains  even  partially  unsolved,  truth  and  loyalty,  and 
not  a  desire  for  mystification,  must  supply  the  explanation. 

And  now  to  detail,  very  briefly,  what  is  further  known  of 
the  house  on  East  5 —  Street,  and  its  occupation 

It  has  already  been  related  that  Superintendent  Kennedy, 
in  spite  of  his  slighting  replies  to  the  two  young  men,  did  not 
really  undervalue  their  information,  and  that  two  vigilant 
detectives,  with  assistants,  were  entrusted  with  the  duty  of 

watching  the  two  houses.     *  L and  another  good  man" 

had  been  ordered  to  take  charge  of  the  house  on  East  5 — 
Street,  and  they  entered  upon  their  duties  at  once.  Not  as 
ordinary  policemen,  of  course,  for  such  a  plan  would  neces- 
sarily have  defeated  any  chance  of  successful  observation. 
It  was  as  a  very  modest  private  gentleman,  elderly,  with  a 

cane  and  a  slight  limp,  that  L managed  to  lounge  by  the 

house  repeatedly  within  the  space  of  an  hour ;  while  his 
assistant,  dressed  in  the  clothes  of  a  glass-mender,  and  with 
a  box  of  the  proper  cut  strapped  on  his  back,  haunted  that 
street  and  invited  business  with  a  cry  which  the  boys  irrev- 
erently designated  "  glass  pudding!"  During  the  two  hours 
thus  spent,  no  person  entered  or  left  the  house,  nor  was  there 
a  sign  of  life  at  any  of  the  windows, — though  what  eyes  may 
really  have  been  watching  from  those  closed  blinds,  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  say.  Enough  that  they  kept  their  watch  closely 
until  the  coming  on  of  the  same  heavy  thunder-storm  which 
burst  upon  the  visitors  to  the  sorceress  in  Prince  Street; 
and  that  when  the  first  drops  of  that  shower  were  falling, 
conceiving  themselves  very  unlikely  to  be  repaid  for  a  thor- 
ough wetting,  they  temporarily  withdrew  to  the  Station- 
house,  or,  as  the  act  would  now  be  expressed,  "  raised  the 
blockade"  for  a  very  limited  period. 

Within  five  minutes  after  their  departure,  and  when  the 
wind  and  the  rain  had  fairly  begun  to  play  together  at  rough 
gymnastics  in  the  street,  there  was  evidence  that  eyes  prob- 
ably had  been  observing  the  elderly  gentleman  with  the 
limp,  walking  past  the  house  a  little  too  frequently.  At  all 
events,  a  man  of  tall  figure,  wrapped  in  an  oil-skin  coat,  and 
15 


236  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

with  a  round  black  hat  and  umbrella,  emerged  from  the  front 
door  and  dashed  rapidly  up  the  street.  He  was  gone  but  a 
few  minutes,  and  returned  in  the  very  height  of  the  storm,  in 
a  carriage  which  drew  up  at  the  door.  Perhaps  ten  minutes 
more,  and  some  of  the  neighbors,  who  had  been  observing 
these  singular  movements,  saw  the  same  tall  man,  with  an 
elderly  lady  and  two  younger  ones,  come  out  and  enter  the 
carriage,  which,  after  taking  on  two  large  trunks,  drove  away 
at  ordinary  speed.  The  conclusion  to  which  these  good 
people  came,  was  that  the  party  were  obliged  to  go  out  in 
the  storm  for  the  purpose  of  catching  one  of  the  late  evening 
trains  out  of  the  city ;  and  they  may  have  been  very  nearly 
correct  in  the  conjecture. 

The  storm  passed  over,  and  the  summer  evening  came  on. 
The  two  detectives  came  back  to  their  places,  varying  their 
disguises  for  the  evening.     The  house  seemed  all  quiet,  as 

before,  and  L came  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  either 

no  one  within  or  that  the  inmates  were  disposed  to  lie  very 
close,  as  they  did  not  even  open  the  front  windows  to  admit 
the  clear  evening  air,  cooled  by  the  shower,  or  to  look  at  the 
splendid  sunset  sky.  So  time  passed  on  until  nine  o'clock, 
when  the  two  detectives  agreed  to  adopt  the  "  ride-and-tie" 
principle — one  keeping  strict  watch  until  midnight  and  the 
other  until  morning.  This  arrangement  was  duly  carried  out ; 
and  L ,  who  had  taken  the  turn  till  midnight,  again  re- 
sumed his  place  at  six  o'clock.  All  was  quiet — no  one  had 
entered  or  left  the  house,  and  L became  thoroughly  satis- 
fied that  it  must  be  unoccupied.  He  might  have  haunted  the 
house  in  one  disguise  or  another,  retaining  the  same  correct 
opinion,  until  doomsday,  had  not  one  of  the  neighboring 
houses  contained  one  of  those  inquisitive  gentlemen  (some- 
times depreciatingly  called  ''meddlers")  who  can  never  be 
content  without  knowing  the  business  of  all  others,  better  than 
their  own. 

This  person,  partially  an  invalid,  and  much  confined  to  the 
house  and  to  very  short  walks  in  the  neighborhood, — had  ob- 
served the  surveillance  of  the  day  before,  still  continued  that 
morning  ;  and  he  had  also  observed  the  episode  of  the  carriage 
in  the  midst  of  the  thunder-storm,  of  which  the  officer  was  a? 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  237 

yet  happily  oblivious.  Putting  all  the  appearances  together, 
he  concluded  that  there  had  been  some  accusation,  a  watch 
and  an  escape  ;  and  about  nine  o'clock  that  morning  he  strolled 
out  to  the  sidewalk ;  accosted  the  detective ;  informed  him, 
with  a  knowing  wink  of  the  eye,  that  he  understood  the  whole 
matter;  and  finished  by  advising  him  that  "the  birds  had 
flown,"  and  of  the  particular  time  when  they  took  wing.  As 
appendiarv  matter,  he  also  informed  the  detective  that  the 
house  was  a  furnished  one  belonging  to  a  wealthy  grocer  who 
had  just  gone  to  Europe  with  his  family — that  it  had  been 
rented  for  a  few  weeks  past  to  some  very  odd  people — and 
that  he  had  wondered  at  their  being  no  attention  paid  to  it 
before,  as  he  was  satisfied  it  was  a  receptacle  for  stolen  goods. 

To  say  that  L was  surprised  at  the  first  part  of  this  in- 
telligence, would  be  to  say  nothing  ;  to  say  that  he  was  mor- 
tified and  enraged  at  being  obliged  to  make  such  a  report  to 
the  Superintendent,  would  be  to  put  the  case  very  mildly ; 
and  to  say  that  he  felt  like  amputating  the  head  of  a  large- 
sized  nail  with  his  teeth,  would  only  being  doing  justice  to 
his  feelings  at  this  juncture. 

The  communicative  neighbor  finally  informed  him  that  he 
doubted  whether  the  house  was  fastened,  from  the  suddenness 
of  the  departure  the  day  before  ;  and  on  the  hint  the  detective 
acted.  The  front  door  was  found  to  be  secured,  but  only  by 
the  latch-key  bolt ;  and  the  area  door  was  entirely  unfastened. 
They  entered  and  explored  the  house.  It  was  a  neatly  furnished 
modern  building,  with  everything  in  its  place  and  nothing  to 
mark  any  hasty  departure  of  occupants,  except  a  dinner-table 
left  setting  in  the  dining-room,  with  food  on  the  plates  and 
evidence  that  the  meal  had  been  left  unfinished. 

Xo  clothing  or  other  articles  that  could  have  belonged  to 
the  late  inmates  had  been  left  behind,  except  half  a  dozen 
books,  one  of  which  was  Simms'  "  History  of  South  Carolina," 
another  a  copy  of  that  odd  jumble  of  short  sketches  published 
three  or  four  years  ago  by  Miss  Martha  Haines  Butt,  and  a 
third  one  of  Marion  Harland's  novels — "The  Hidden  Path." 
Part  of  a  letter  was  found,  the  signature  gone  and  all  one 
side  burned  off,  as  if  it  had  been  used  in  lighting  a  cigar  or  a 
gas-burner,  but  still  showing  the  date;    "Richmond,  Ya., 


238  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

0.  S.  A.,  May  28th,  lSf^,"  and  apparently  written  by  a  young 
officer  in  the  Confederate  army  to  his  sister  in  this  city.  >»o 
other  traces  were  found,  though  these  were  quite  enough  to 
increase  the  chagrin  of  the  detectives,  in  the  knowledge  that 
they  had  allowed  persons  to  escape  who  certainly  mast  have 
been  in  correspondence  with  the  rebel  capital ;  and  with  this 

the  crest-fallen  L and  his  subordinate  prepared  to  make 

their  report  to  a  superior  not  much  in  the  habit  of  excusing 
failure  or  making  allowance  for  extenuating  circumstances. 

It  is  to  l>e  believed  that  the  inquisitive  and  eommunieative 
neighbor  enjoyed  the  best  night's  rest  he  had  known  for  a 
twelvemonth,  on  the  night  following,  after  this  conference 
with  a  couple  of  detectives  and  this  peep  into  a  house  that 
had  really  excited  his  curiosity.  It  is  doubtful,  meanwhile, 
whether  the  grocer  landlord,  informed  by  his  agent,  by  the 
next  mail,  of  the  exodus  of  his  tenants  without  liquidation, 
saw  the  matter  in  so  enjoyable  a  light. 

Of  course,  with  the  fugitives  given  some  fifteen  hours  start 
and  the  use  of  modern  railroad  facilities,  any  thought  of  pur- 
suit would  have  been  folly,  even  had  there  been  any  conclu- 
sive data  upon  which  to  found  proceedings  for  their  appre- 
hension. And  with  such  meagre  and  unsatisfactory  results 
closed  that  portion  of  the  supposed  secession  mystery — at 
least  for  the  time.  After  events  showed  that  the  "  red 
woman"'  disappeared  from  Prince  Street  on  the  same  night, 
whether  in  company  with  her  former  acquaintances  or  alone. 
What  after-glimpses  were  caught  of  any  of  the  other  persona 
concerned,  will  be  shown  at  a  later  period  of  this  narration. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  239 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


Looking  for  John  Crawford,  of  Duryea's  Zouaves — The 
Morning  of  the  First  of  July — McClellan  and  his 
Generals — The  First  Battle  of  Malvern — Victory 
in  Retreat. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Richard  Crawford,  lying  help- 
lessly on  his  sofa  and  murmuring  over  the  bodily  disability 
which  at  once  entailed  idleness  and  suffering,  made  it  one  of 
the  grounds  of  comparisons  injurious  to  himself,  that  his 
brother  John  was  on  service  in  Virginia  with  the  Advance 
Guard — better  known,  perhaps,  as  "  Duryea's  Zouaves" — 
that  gallant  corps  designated  by  the  rebels  as  the  " red-legged 
devils,"  and  spoken  of  by  every  European  officer  who  has 
seen  their  action  in  battle,  as  the  equals  of  any  body  of  regu- 
lars of  any  service  in  the  world.  The  claims  of  business 
alone  had  prevented  his  being  in  the  ranks  of  that  regiment, 
if  in  no  higher  position,  when  they  marched  down  Broadway 
on  their  departure  in  the  summer  of  1861,  receiving  the 
merited  compliment  of  being  the  finest-looking  body  of  men, 
as  to  physique  and  probable  endurance,  that  had  ever  passed 
over  that  procession-trodden  pavement,  and  headed  by  a  gal- 
lant officer  (Colonel,  now  General,  Abram  Duryea)  who  had 
been  so  largely  instrumental  in  making  the  Seventh  Regiment 
famous  for  drill,  discipline  and  readiness  for  any  service. 

John  Crawford,  a  younger  brother  of  Richard  (his  only 
brother,  in  fact — the  whole  living  family  being  comprised  in 
Richard,  Isabella  and  John)  had  left  his  lucrative  employ- 
ment as  a  confidential  dry-goods  clerk,  in  one  of  the  largest 
down-town  establishments,  and  joined  the  Advance  Guard. 
lie  had  participated  in  nearly  or  quite  all  the  battles  shared 
in  by  that  lucky  corps,  from  Big  Bethel,  where  they  performed 
the  wonderful  feat  of  re-forming  under  fire  in  the  space  of 
four  minutes,  after  having  been  thrown  into  complete  disorder 
by  the  discharge  from  an  ambuscade  of  artillery, — to  the 
severe  conflicts  of  the  Peninsula,  in  McClellan's  advance  upon 
Richmond  ;  and  only  once  had  he  been  wounded,  even  slightly. 


240  SHOULI'ER-STRAPS. 

He  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life;  and  there  was  something 
in  the  rollick  and  dash  of  his  letters  home,  always  full  charged 
with  the  very  sense  of  bravery  and  physical  enjoyment,  w«dl 
calculated  to  arouse  the  feeling,  if  not  the  envy,  of  a  brother 
quite  as  patriotic  and  probably  quite  as  brave  as  himself)  but 
kept  back  by  circumstances  and  afterwards  by  ill-health  from 
participating  in  the  same  glorious  conflicts.  No  matter 
whether  he  described  the  carnage  of  the  turning  point  in  a 
day  of  battle;  an  hour  beside  a  wounded  soldier  in  the 
hospital,  talking  of  home  and  friends  ;  or  one  of  the  chickens- 
and-pig-foragiug  expeditions  for  which  the  Zouaves  have  been 
almost  as  famous  as  for  their  fighting, — through  all  these  shone 
the  spirit  of  the  gay,  rattling,  contented  soldier,  who  might 
have  sat  for  a  portrait,  any  day,  of  Paddy  Murphy,  in  the 
"Happy  Man,"  making  his  baggage-wagon,  commissariat  and 
camp-chest  of  a  one-headed  drum,  ready  to  fall  in  love  with 
the  first  neat  pair  of  ankles  that  peeped  from  beneath  a  well- 
kept  petticoat,  a  little  regardless  of  any  proprietorship  in  the 
same  ankles,  other  than  that  vested  in  the  actual  owner,  and 
splendidly  indifferent  as  to  either  the  time  or  the  mode  of  his 
death,  whenever  that  death  should  become  a  matter  of  neces- 
sity. 

The  letters  of  such  soldiers  as  these  are  the  best  recruit- 
ing-sergeants that  can  be  sent  abroad  among  any  people  ; 
just  as  the  letters  of  whining,  lugubrious  or  dissatisfied  men, 
who  have  gone  into  war  without  expecting  any  of  its  dangers 
or  discomforts — who  are  satisfied  with  no  fare  less  luxurious 
than  that  served  up  at  DelmonicoV  or  the  Maison  Doree, 
and  who  protest  against  any  sleeping  which  is  not  done  upon 
spring-mattresses  strown  with  rose-leaves, — cannot  do  other- 
wise than  discourage  and  unnerve  the  whole  immediate  com- 
munity in  which  they  fall.  Whether  the  growlers  through 
the  press  and  in  general  society,  have  done  most  to  discour- 
age and  demoralize  the  army,  or  whether  the  grumblers  in 
the  army  have  wrought  more  effectually  in  discouraging  en- 
listments and  weakening  the  national  cause,  certain  it  is  that 
the  two  evil  influences  have  worked  together,  and  that  those 
who  have  displayed  the  contrary  spirit  are  entitled  to  full 
redit  from  the  whole  loyal  community. 


SHO  (J  L  UEK-STRAPS.  241 

John  Crawford,  the  Zouave*  has  not  yet  made  his  appear 
ance  upon  the  scene  ;  but  it  will  now  become  necessary  to 
turn  attention  to  events  and  incidents  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged, and  to  discover  what  influence  his  action  may  have 
produced  on  the  after  events  of  this  story.  In  this  change 
of  scene,  too,  we  pass  away  for  the  time  from  the  outside  ac- 
tions and  influences  of  the  war — the  examination  of  recruiting 
officers,  their  camps  and  their  Broadway  parades,  with  the 
domestic  and  social  entanglements  in  which  they  were  in- 
volved by  the  struggle, — to  the  theatre  of  the  war  itself 
and  the  sights  and  sounds  involved  in  one  of  the  deadliest 
conflicts  that  ever  shook  the  earth  with  the  thunder  created 
by  the  blood-shedding  descendants  of  Cain. 

It  is  with  the  battle  of  Malvern  Hill  that  we  have  to  do — 
a  battle  as  yet  misunderstood  and  underrated  by  many  who 
think  themselves  thoroughly  conversant  with  the  events  of  the 
war — one  of  those  marvellous  victories  in  retreat  which  often 
more  fully  than  successes  in  advance  illustrate  the  genius  of 
those  who  achieve  them.  When  the  history  of  the  War  for  the 
Union  comes  to  be  written  at  a  later  day,  and  when  the  petty 
jealousies  and  misunderstandings  are  discarded  which  now 
embarrass  all  contemporary  records, — it  is  scarcely  to  be 
doubted  that  the  battle  of  Malvern  Hill  will  be  set  down  as 
the  most  terrible  conflict  ever  known  on  this  continent ;  the 
most  splendid  artillery  duel  of  any  country  or  any  age ;  a 
crowning  test  of  indomitable  bravery  on  the  part  of  both 
loyalists  and  rebels ;  and  a  brilliant  victory  for  the  Union 
cause,  which  saved  an  army,  crowned  the  reputation  of  its 
young  General,  and  averted  a  series  of  evils  which  could  not 
have  failed  to  culminate  in  the  fall  of  Washington  and  the 
virtual  destruction  of  the  last  hope  of  the  republic. 

The  events  which  had  immediately  preceded  Malvern  Hill 
are  too  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  people  to  need  any  extended 
recapitulation.  McClellan,  deprived  of  his  last  hope  for  the 
immediate  capture  of  Richmond,  by  the  unexpected  strength 
shown  by  the  Confederates  in  front  and  the  withdrawal  of 
McDowell  under  the  orders  of  the  government,  when  within 
ten  miles  of  effecting  a  junction  with  him  ; — McClellan,  his 
forces  sadly  thinned  by  the  labors  and  the  diseases  incident  to 


242  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  long  delay  amid  the  swamps  of  the  Chickahominy ;   Mc- 
Clellan,  driven  at  last  from  the  possibility  of  even  holding  his 

position,  by  the  arrival  at  Richmond  of  a  large  proportion  of 
the  rebel  army  driven  from  Corinth  by  Halleck,  and  by  the 
movement  of  Jackson  with  a  body  of  forty  thousand  men  to 
take  his  right  wing  in  flank ; — McClellan  had  abandoned  the 
White  House  on  the  Pamunkey  River,  on  Sunday  the  twenty-! 
ninth  of  June,  after  the  terrific  conflict  of  the  Friday  previous, 
burning  the  White  House  itself  and  immense  quantities  of 
stores  and  supplies  that  could  not  be  transported,  and  was  now 
falling  back  on  the  line  of  the  James  River,  where  he  could 
meet  the  protection  of  the  Union  gunboats  and  safely  await 
the  slow  coming  of  those  reinforcements  with  the  aid  of  which 
he  yet  made  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  take  the  rebel  capital. 
To  McClellan"?  army  this  movement,  accompanied  with  so 
much  haste  and  such  extensive  destruction  of  valuables,  neces- 
sarily looked  more  like  a  disastrous  retreat  after  defeat  than 
it  was  in  reality  ;  and  the  consequence  was  such  a  depression 
of  spirits  in  many  of  the  corps,  as  could  only  have  been  pre- 
vented growing  into  demoralization  by  the  confidence  that 
every  officer  and  every  soldier  yet  felt  in  the  young  com- 
mander. To  the  rebels,  knowing  the  country  better  than  the 
loyal  troops,  the  movement  appeared  nearer  what  it  really 
was,  a  successful  escape  from  overwhelming  difficulties,  to  a 
better  and  more  secure  position,  from  which  an  offensive  move- 
ment might  again  be  made  at  an  early  day,  threatening  their 
capital  beyond  a  hope  of  defence.  To  them,  a  prize  long 
watched  and  supposed  to  be  securely  entrapped,  was  after  all 
escaping  to  a  place  of  safety ;  and  eveiy  Confederate  officer 
and  soldier  seemed  to  feel  that  the  Union  army  must  not  be 
allowed  to  gain  the  line  of  the  James  as  an  army,  if  an}'  series 
of  desperate  and  continued  attacks  could  suffice  to  destroy  it. 
Never,  perhaps,  was  greater  bravery  or  more  indefatigable 
energy  shown  in  pursuing  a  beaten  but  dangerous  foe,  than 
was  shown  on  this  occasion  by  Hill,  Longstreet  and  Jackson  : 
and  never,  certainly,  was  the  doggedly  dangerous  defence  of 
the  tiger  slowly  retreating  to  his  jungle,  more  splendidly 
shown  than  by  McClellan,  Hooker,  Sumner,  Keyes,  Heintzel- 
man  and  the  other  Union  commanders.     The  conflict  of  Mon- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  243 

day  the  thirtieth  June,  at  White  Oak  Swamp,  had  brought  no 
substantial  benefit  to  the  Confederate  arms,  nor  had  it  in  any 
considerable  degree  weakened  the  Union  forces  ;  and  on  the 
ttteht  of  that  day  it  became  evident  to  the  commanders  of 
both  armies  that  if  Tuesday  the  first  of  July  should  pass  with- 
out a  substantial  victory  gained  by  the  Confederates,  the  Union 
troops  would  gain  the  shelter  of  the  James  and  the  gunboats, 
•Mid  the  rebel  advance  be  checked  effectually. 

It  was  upon  the  two  armies  in  this  position  that  the  night 
of  Monday  closed  down  ;  and  it  was  upon  the  two  armies 
with  their  positions  very  little  changed,  that  the  morning 
broke  on  Tuesday,  giving  light  for  the  double  battle,  of  a 
whole  day's  duration,  hereafter  to  be  known  as  that  of  Mal- 
vern Hill.* 

Nature  has  no  sympathy  with  bloodshed  and  but  little  with 
suffering ;  and  it  is  only  when  a  God  puts  off  mortal  ex 
istence  that  the  earth  is  racked  with  the  thunders  and  the 
earthquakes  of  Calvary.  The  birds  sing  as  sweetly  and  the 
sun  shines  as  brightly  as  usual,  on  the  day  when  we  lay  in 
the  earth  all  that  was  mortal  of  one  dearer  to  us  than  sun- 
shine or  bird-music  ;  and  the  moon  does  not  turn  red  or  veil 
her  light,  even  in  the  presence  of  midnight  murder.  If  the 
skies  weep  rain  upon  Waterloo,  it  does  not  fall  because  the 
powers  in  heaven  are  making  lamentation  over  the  slaughter 
so  soon  to  be  accomplished,  but  because  the  crops  of  the 
Flemish  farmers  have  called  up  to  the  skies  for  moisture. 

The  sun  peeps  lovingly  down  even  on  many  a  battle-field, 
and  it  kisses  the  tips  of  ba}ronets  soon  to  be  wet  with  the 
blood  of  brothers  and  the  blades  of  swords  that  are  to  be 
hacked  and  hammered  in  deadly  conflict,  just  as  it  might 
glint  upon  the  polished  barrel  of  the  sportsman  or  flash  from 

*  For  the  close  and  accurate  description  of  this  battle,  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  technical  terms  employed,  the  ground  occupied,  and 
some  of  the  very  langaage  used, — the  writer  in  this  place  begs  to 
make  his  acknowledgments  to  Mr  William  II.  White,  soldier  and 
scholar,  a  Lieutenant  in  the  Ninth  Infantry  in  the  campaign  against 
the  city  of  Mexico,  and  author  of  the  popular  "  Sketches  of  the 
Mexican  War"  which  have  supplied  our  literature  with  some  of 
the  finest  battle-pieces  in  the  language. 


244  SII  OULLEK-  STRAP  i. 

the  diamond  aigrette  of  the  lady  riding  forth  on  her  white 
palfrey  to  catch  the  breath  of  early  morning'.  And  how  man, 
with  the  capacity  of  thought,  shrinks  and  shrivels  within 
himself  when  he  marks  the  eternity  of  the  course  of  nature 
and  the  very  silent  scorn  bestowed  upon  him  when  he  is  com- 
mitting crimes  or  displaying  heroisms  that  make  aH  his  little 
world  one  overwhelming  convulsion  !  It  was  the  reply  of 
an  officer  of  undaunted  bravery,  when  asked  what  was  the 
predominant  feeling  in  his  mind  when  he  headed  the  for- 
lorn-hope in  one  of  the  desperate  assaults  that  preceded  the 
taking  of  the  City  of  Mexico  :  "  I  think  I  heard  the  singing 
of  the  birds  in  the  trees,  more  distinctly  than  anything  else, 
and  I  felt  a  little  vexed  that  they  seemed  to  care  nothing 
about  the  terrible  scrape  we  were  pitching  into."  And  some- 
thing of  the  same  dissatisfaction,  though  more  tinged  with 
melancholy,  has  been  felt  by  many  who  stood  beside  the  clos- 
ing grave  and  heard  the  same  bird-music  making  harsh  dis- 
cord with  the  rumbling  of  the  clods  falling  on  the  lid  of  the 
coffin,  and  who  saw  the  plaasant  sunshine  tinging  the  very 
sods  that  were  in  a  few  moments  to  form  an  impassable  bar- 
rier between  the  beloved  dead  and  the  miserable  living. 

Xature  smiled  upon  the  field  of  Malvern,  on  the  morning 
of  the  First  of  July,  however  the  powers  that  wheel  the 
courses  of  the  sun  may  have  frowned  behind  their  battle- 
ments at  the  sacrifice  of  life  then  beginning  and  the  fearful 
passions  then  being  called  into  more  active  exertion.  A 
slight  mist  lay  over  wood  and  river,  in  the  very  early  morn- 
ing, but  the  first  beams  of  the  sun  dispelled  it,  and  the  pic- 
turesque Virginia  landscape  was  exposed  to  full  view,  with  its 
long  stretches  of  hill  and  plain,  its  river  glimmering  in  the 
distance,  its  patches  of  corn  and  tobacco,  its  scattered  and 
unthrifty  farm-houses  flanked  with  their  negro  quarters,  and 
its  long  lines  of  white  and  sun-baked  roads. 

At  that  point  on  the  direct  road  from  Charles  City  to 
Richmond,  and  about  four  miles  from  Malvern  Hill  in  a 
North-west  direction,  such  a  scene  was  presented,  half  an 
hour  after  sunrise,  as  has  seldom  been  looked  upon  by  mortal 
eye.  The  increasing  light  brought  more  and  more  plainly  to 
view  the  retreating  march  of  the  Union  forces — unmistakably 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  245 

a  retreat  and  yet  quite  as  unmistakably  no  panic.  Intermin- 
able lines  of  wagons,  whose  length  and  number  no  one  can 
estimate  who  has  not  seen  a  formidable  army  on  the  march, 
rolled  on  slowly  over  the  white  roads,  raising  clouds  of  im- 
palpable dust  that  rose  no  higher  than  the  wheels  and  then 
settled  again  without  obscuring  the  view.  Battery  after  bat- 
tery of  rifled  Parrots,  smooth-bores,  howitzers  and  monster 
siege-guns,  rumbled  leisurely  along  the  uneven  way.  Long 
lines  of  jaded  cavalry  tramped  wearily  and  stiffly,  the  horses 
with  drooping  heads  and  the  riders  with  listless  attitudes 
and  loose  seats  in  their  saddles  which  denoted  the  very  ex- 
tremity of  fatigue  and  exhaustion.  Streams  of  limping,  foot- 
sore stragglers  and  slightly-wounded  soldiers  flanked  the 
roads  on  either  side,  trudging  along  beside  the  ambulances  in 
which  their  worse-wounded  companions  were  being  carried 
forward.  Mixed  in  with  these  were  unshorn  Confederate 
prisoners  ;  teamsters  whose  mules  and  wagons  lay  at  various 
points  between  the  Chickahominy  and  Turkey  Bend ;  and 
ruined  sutlers  whose  precious  captured  stores  were  now  giv- 
ing aid  and  comfort  to  the  appreciative  stomachs  of  the  hun- 
gry rebels.  The  Provost-Marshal's  Guard  and  fatigue-party 
of  Colonel  Porter  brought  up  the  rear — picking  up  strag- 
glers ;  blowing  up  ammunition  that  had  been  left  by  the 
way ;  burning  feed  and  forage  ;  smashing  barrels  of  liquids, 
of  which  the  apparent  wanton  waste  on  the  ground  would 
at  any  other  time  have  almost  produced  a  revolt  in  the 
ranks  ;  bending  the  barrels  and  throwing  into  the  swamp,  of 
muskets  dropped  by  dead  and  exhausted  soldiers ;  breaking 
up  and  burning  abandoned  wagons,  and  destroying  knap- 
sacks, blankets,  and  all  such  other  articles  that  could  be  of 
any  possible  use  to  an  enemy,  as  had  been  left  behind  by  the 
regiments  that  had  passed  on  to  the  James  River. 

The  position  at  which  our  point  of  view  is  taken,  and 
through  which  these  streams  of  wagons,  guns,  horses  and 
men  were  passing  with  the  appearance  of  a  retreat  and  yet 
with  the  steady  regularity  of  an  ordinary  march,  formed  the 
camping-ground  of  Genl.  Fitz- John  Porter's  command,  lately 
the  right  wing  but  now  the  rear  of  the  army  of  the  Potomac. 
The  shattered  remnants  of  the  corps  of  that  indomitable  Gene- 


246  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

nil,  who  after  services  of  the  first  bravery  and  importance, 
was  so  soon  afterwards  to  be  placed  in  an  ambiguous  position 
before  the  country  and  dismissed  from  a  service  which  he  had 

illustrated  rather  than  disgraced, — together  with  portions  of 
those  of  Sumner,  Heintzelinan  and  Keyes,  made  up  his  present 
command  and  the  rear-guard  of  the  army,  holding  this  point 
on  the  Richmond  and  Charles  City  road.  And  whatever  may 
have  been  the  merits  of  other  commands  embraced  in  thi 
vast  army,  in  that  of  General  Porter  was  certainly  included 
some  of  the  best  regulars  yet  spared  to  the  service,  and  some 
of  the  bravest  and  most  efficient  volunteer  regiments  that  were 
ever  suddenly  formed  from  the  ranks  of  civil  life,  to  defend  the 
honor  of  any  country.  To  them  the  often-misapplied  phrase, 
M  war-worn  veterans,"  could  now  be  applied  without  mockery, 
for  the  men  and  their  encampment  furniture  looked  alike  worn 
and  jaded,  and  it  was  only  by  their  regularity  and  evident  dis- 
cipline that  they  could  be  recognized  for  what  they  really  were 
. — the  most  reliable  soldiers  in  the  army,  and  men  well  worthy 
of  the  trust  confided  to  them,  of  defending  the  threatened  rear 
and  breaking  any  sudden  assault  of  a  foe  flushed  with  success. 
Those  men  who  stood  upon  guard  at  various  points  of  the 
hasty  encampment,  may  have  been  faded  and  ragged  in  uni- 
form, the  arms  they  bore  may  have  shown  hard  usage,  and 
their  discolored  tents  showed  little  of  the  "pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  glorious  war;''  but  they  had  full  warrant  for  all  this 
in  past  services,  for  not  a  storm  in  all  the  long  campaign  that 
they  had  not  breasted,  and  not  a  battle  of  all  the  long  line  on 
the  Peninsula  in  which  they  had  not  sown  the  soil  of  freedom 
with  sacred  seed  from  their  thinned  ranks. 

A  bloodless  military  pageant  may  be  a  splendid  spectacle, 
and  hearts  may  beat  high  and  eyes  grow  bright  when  the 
steady  footfall  of  our  "household  troops''  is  heard  on  Broad- 
way, and  they  file  by  with  rich  music,  flashing  banners  and 
the  proud  consciousness  of  a  strength  that  would  be  terrible 
if  asserted;  but  what  are  such  feelings  to  those  with  which 
the  truly  patriotic  look  upon  those  who  have  lost  all  their  glow 
and  gilding  in  the  "baptism  of  fire," and  acquired  that  sacred 
squalor  springing  from  active  and  dangerous  service  ?  The 
faded  coat  and  cap  and  the  dingy  accoutrements  are  badges 


S  H  0  L*  L  D  KR-S  T  R  A  P  S.  24:7 

of  honor,  worth  a  thousand  of  those  new,  bright,  untried, 
and  incapable  of  telling  or  suggesting  any  heroic  story.  And 
if  the  ranks  of  a  regiment  of  such  men  are  thin,  there  is  a 
glorious  shadow  standing  in  every  vacant  place  once  filled  by 
a  gallant  soldier;  and  a  voice  rings  out  which  gives  the  same 
reply  to  the  inquiry  after  the  absent  ones,  that  was  so  long 
given  in  the  armies  of  Napoleon's  time  to  the  roll-call  which 
pronounced  the  name  of  La  Tour  d'Auvcrgne,  the  "First 
Soldier  of  France" — ''dead  on  the  field  of  honor!"  Think 
of  it,  lady  of  the  agricultural  and  ornithological  bonnet  and 
the  irreproachable  silks,  when  the  next  time  in  a  city  railroad 
car  two  "  soldiers"  sit  down  beside  you,  and  one  is  a  spruce, 
natty-whiskered,  good-looking  member  of  a  pet  regiment  of 
the  N.  Gr.  S.  N.  Y.  or  the  N.  Y.  S.  M.,  going  down  to  an  evening 
drill  and  a  supper  of  oysters  after  it,  and  the  other  a  hard- 
featured  and  weather-beaten  discharged  soldier  from  our 
Southern  battle-fields,  lame  or  otherwise,  in  faded  uniform  and 
a  shirt  not  too  suggestive  of  plentiful  washerwomen, — think 
of  this,  and  if  you  smile  bewitchingly  upon  the  one,  as  is  your 
nature,  when  he  apologizes  for  accidentally  creasing  your 
dress, — do  not  gather  up  your  robes  with  too  much  contempt, 
from  contact  with  the  stained  garments  of  the  other,  who  has 
outraged  your  amor  propre  by  taking  a  place  beside  you  ;  for 
though  you  may  be  merely  shunning  contact  with  a  vulgar 
ruffian  or  a  coward  who  has  deserted  his  colors  in  the  hour  of 
need — you  may  be  insulting  a  hero. 

Outlying  pickets  had  of  course  been  thrown  out  from 
General  Porter's  force,  now  posted  to  keep  the  advancing 
rebels  at  bay  until  the  still  immense  trains  of  stores  and  am- 
munition could  be  conveyed  to  Harrison's  Landing,  and  the 
siege-guns  and  field-batteries  placed  in  position  at  Malvern 
Hill  and  other  points  guarding  the  new  base.  McClellan  had 
evidently  calculated  upon  making  t!u'  last  and  effectual  stand 
at  Malvern  Hill,  and  the  rebels  had  quite  as  evidently  calcu- 
lated upon  his  doing  so  if  allowed  to  reach  it;  and  on  the 
issue  of  the  struggle  in  that  neighborhood  was  to  depend  the 
question  whether  the  Union  forces  were  to  be  driven  pell-mell 
into  the  James  River,  surrender  or  hold  their  own  and  repulse 
their  assailants.     Sudden  attacks  and  attempts  at  surprise 


248  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

were  naturalW  expected  by  the  rear-guard  at  any  moment ; 
and  against  these  usual  and  unusual  precautions  had  been 

taken,  which  would  have  satisfied  old  Frederick  himself — that 
hard-headed  old  soldier  who  dreaded  nothing  in  war  but  an 
attack  by  surprise. 

The  nature  of  the  country  in  the  neighborhood  as  well  as 
indeed  along  the  whole  line  from  the  I'hiekahominy  to  the 
James,  abounding  as  it  did  in  woods  and  swamps,  made  it 
impossible  to  form  extended  lines  of  battle  even  at  the  spot 
where  successful  defence  and  the  holding  of  a  certain  position 
appeared  to  be  the  most  necessary.  Many  regiments  had  not 
even  room  to  deploy  more  than  half  the  length  of  their  proper 
fronts ;  and  the  full  strength  of  the  command  could  not  pos- 
sibly be  brought  to  bear  against  an  attacking  foe,  distributed 
as  it  was  in  knots  for  miles  across  the  country. 

These  natural  obstacles,  meanwhile,  were  not  disadvan- 
tageous to  the  rebels.  Their  superior  knowledge  of  the  sec- 
tion, with  its  numerous  minor  swamp-roads,  forest-paths  and 
approaches  necessarily  unknown  to  the  Union  forces,  gave 
them  immense  advantages,  such  as  they  had  not  been  slow  to 
improve,  in  corresponding  circumstances,  during  the  whole 
of  the  preceding  campaign.  Aware  of  these  facts,  a  night 
attack  on  Monday  might  have  been  expected  by  the  Federal 
officers,  and  the  men  had  slept  on  their  arms  in  anticipation 
of  it.  But  White  Oak  Swamp  had  been  too  severe  a  trial  of 
courage  and  energy;  they  were  not  disposed  to  attack  again 
before  receiving  more  of  the  reinforcements  steadily  pouring 
onward  from  Richmond  ;  and  as  a  consequence  the  wearied 
troops  had  been  allowed  to  pass  the  night  without  disturb- 
ance, and  they  had  even  overhauled  the  remains  of  rations 
remaining  in  their  haversacks  and  made  their  scanty  and  un- 
savory breakfasts,  long  before  the  expected  hostile  cloud  burst 
upon  them. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  some  of  the 
scouts  of  Smith's  brigade  came  in  and  announced  the  enemy 
advancing  in  force.  In  a  moment  after,  the  rattling  rolls  of 
drums  and  the  brazen  notes  of  bugles  resounded  among  the 
bivouacs ;  and  with  the  regimental  and  national  colors  planted 
at  prominent  points  before  arranged,  the  regiments  formed 


S  H  O  L'  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  K  A  F  S.  249 

upon  them  and  took  up  the  positions  assigned.  Some  of  the 
brigades  were  hidden  in  the  cornfields  adjoining  the  encamp- 
ment ;  some  were  drawn  up  along  the  lines  of  fences,  afford- 
ing little  protection,  but  obscuring  knowledge  of  the  field  by 
an  enemy  attempting  to  reconnoitre  from  a  distance  ;  several 
regiments  were  thrown  into  the  woods  right  and  left;  and  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  command  awaited  the  attack  on 
(.pen  ground,  without  other  protection  than  God,  the  justice 
of  their  cause,  and  their  own  valor.  Kern's  Pennsylvania 
Battery.  Martin's  Massachusetts,  and  Carlisle's  and  Tidball's 
Regular  Batteries,  were  on  the  ground.  They  moved  up 
nearer  the  front  than  they  had  before  been  lying,  the  Regular 
Butteries  in  the  main  road  and  upon  an  eminence  to  the  right. 
Kern  took  position  near  the  edge  of  the  swamp  on  the  left ; 
and  Martin  found  post  in  a  wheat-field  to  the  right.  Sev- 
eral brigades  of  infantry  were  also  thrown  well  in  advance, 
though  not  in  range  of  the  artillery ;  and  so  prepared,  the 
Union  troops  awaited  what  they  felt  was  to  be  a  decisive 
conflict. 

Gradually  the  "  crack  !  crack  !  crack  !"  of  a  scattering  fire 
of  small-arms,  which  had  been  heard  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
to  the  westward,  came  nearer  and  nearer,  as  the  pickets  were 
driven  in,  contesting  their  ground  stubbornly  as  they  fell 
back.  On  came  the  Confederates,  slowly  at  first  and  after- 
wards with  more  rapidity,  throwing  out  clouds  of  skirmishers, 
in  the  rear  of  which  the  main  body  marched  in  such  forma- 
tions as  the  nature  of  the  ground  permitted.  Whenever  they 
deployed  in  line  of  battle,  instead  of  the  customary  arrange- 
ment of  a  single  line  of  two  ranks,  they  formed  in  three  lines 
"  closed  en  mas$e,v  thus  making  their  front  six  ranks  deep. 
Tli is  disposition  of  course  was  calculated  to  give  increased 
weight  in  a  bayonet  charge,  and  indeed  to  make  it  well  nigh 
irresistible ;  but  besides  the  fact  that  the  solid  formation 
would  render  the  execution  of  artillery  among  them  much 
more  destructive,  in  the  event  of  a  repulse  it  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  rally  them,  as  the  different  regiments  would 
Barily  lack  space  in  which  to  manoeuvre,  the  lines  inevi- 
tably mix  up  in  an  inextricable  mass,  and  the  whole  body 
become  a  disorganized   mob.     Some  of  the  rebel  divisions 


250  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

were  formed  in  column,  either  of  division  or  company,  all 
closed  up  at  half  distance. 

It  was  a  matter  of  remark  to  the  Union  officers  who  saw 
the  advance  of  the  Confederate  forces  on  that  day — the  most 
formidable  advance,  perhaps,  that  they  have  made  during  any 
battle  of  the  war, — that  there  were  no  flashing  and  showy 
uniforms,  and  that  but  few  flags  were  seen.  The  same 
remark  had  before  been  made  during  other  conflicts  of  the 
Peninsular  campaign,  and  the  contrast  thus  presented  to  the 
gaudy  and  careless  dressing  of  many  of  the  Union  troops, 
seemed  one  to  reflect  credit  on  the  Confederate  prudence  at 
the  expense  of  that  quality  on  which  they  had  so  prided 
themselves — their  chivalry.  Except  as  the  sun  shone  on  the 
sloping  musket-barrels  and  bristling  bayonets,  there  were 
few  brilliant  objects  in  all  that  formidable  array,  on  which 
the  sharp-shooters  of  the  Federal  army  could  readily  fix  as 
targets.  Few  bright  buttons  flashed  on  uniforms,  even  of 
officers,  and  shoulder-straps  were  so  uncommon  as  to  make  it 
difficult  to  distinguish  an  officer  (even  a  field  or  staff  officer, 
if  not  on  horseback)  from  a  private.  Our  own  forces,  through- 
out the  war,  have  probably  been  needlessly  reckless  in  this 
regard  ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  brilliant  uniforms, 
particularly  of  the  various  Zouave  corps,  have  often  made 
them  more  easily  distinguishable  and  added  to  their  losses 
when  fighting  at  long  range.  But  the  truly  brave  man  is  not 
apt  to  consider  the  consequences  to  his  own  safety,  of  wear- 
ing a  dress  or  carrying  an  insignia  which  he  would  otherwise 
bear  with  propriety  and  with  pride.  It  was  an  inviting 
mark  which  Henri  of  Navarre  offered  to  the  foe  at  Ivry,  in 
the  white  plume  with  which  he  led  on  his  followers  ;  and 
Murat,  when  he  made  those  desperate  charges  to  which 
reference  has  before  been  made  during  the  progress  of  this 
narration,  must  have  known  that  his  flashing  silks,  his 
feathers  and  embroidery,  put  his  life  much  more  in  danger 
than  that  of  an  officer  less  conspicuously  clad  ;  but  neither 
the  foe  of  the  League  nor  the  brother-in-law  of  Napoleon 
remembered  the  danger  when  the  glory  was  to  be  won  and 
the  great  object  of  the  soldier  accomplished.  Perhaps  that 
duellist  may  be  pardoned  by  those  who  look  on,  when  he 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  251 

care  fully  removes  from  his  person  every  mark  that  could  fur- 
nish a  target  to  his  enemy,  but  he  is  no  more  than  pardoned; 
and  if  there  is  one  redeeming-  trait  in  the  detestable  character 
of  the  duellist,  it  is  to  be  found  in  that  ready  exposure  of  his 
life  to  the  chances  of  fate  and  skill,  which  does  not  stop  to 
calculate  a  button  or  measure  the  narrowest  line  of  aim 
which  can  be  presented  to  an  adversary.  Straitened  circum- 
stances and  the  want  of  many  of  the  appliances  of  luxury, 
may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the  lack  of  personal  dis- 
play on  the  part  of  the  Confederates,  more  especially  the 
officers,  throughout  the  struggle  ;  but  a  long  time  will  elapse 
before  the.  non-chivalrous  "  Yankees"  whom  they  have 
despised,  will  cease  to  believe  that  commendable  anxiety  for 
personal  safety  has  lain  at  the  bottom  of  the  self-denial. 

The  fire  of  the  rebel  skirmishers,  in  this  advance,  was  met 
promptly  by  those  of  the  Union  army,  and  so  sharply  that  the 
former  were  soon  driven  back  pell-mell  on  the  main  body. 
The  Federal  sharpshooters,  taking  advantage  of  every  tree, 
rock  or  knoll,  frequently  overlapping  their  flanks,  kept  up  a 
continual  and  most  destructive  fire  on  the  steadily  advancing 
lines  and  columns.  The  Confederates  came  on  in  excellent 
order,  their  dingy  lines  sometimes  bulging  to  the  front,  then 
occasionally  bending  rearwards, — now  the  left  wing  curving 
forward,  and  then  the  right  swaying  in  an  opposite  direction. 
But  these  trifling  deviations  from  mathematical  lines  were 
always  quickly  corrected,  and  the  "dress"  of  their  long  fronts 
was  really  so  good  as  to  give  evidence  of  continued  and  care- 
ful drill  on  the  part  of  the  men  and  much  ability  on  that  of 
the  officers. 

A  heavy  gray-clad  body  of  rebels  advanced  in  soldierly 
style  until  they  came,  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  po- 
sition occupied  by  Couch's  division,  which  was  lying  down  in 
the  weeds  and  partially  screened  by  them.  A  blast  of  bugles 
— a  roll  of  drums — a  few  sharp  words  of  command  ;  and  up 
rose  the  before-dormant  mass  to  their  feet.  A  scorching, 
withering  lire  of  small-arms,  delivered  by  companies  from  left 
to  right,  and  with  the  greatest  deliberation,  was  sent  directly 
into  the  faces  of  the  advancing  rebels — such  a  close  and 
deadly  fire  as  seems  almost  as  impossible  to  advance  against 
16 


252  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

as  against  the  lightnings  of  heaven.  They  halted,  wavered, 
and  gave  signs  of  confusion  ;  but  they  were  soon  restored  to 
order  and  again  came  on.  Again  one  of  those  close  and  ter- 
rible volleys  was  poured  into  them,  thinning  the  ranks  and 
encumbering  every  step  with  dead  ;  and  again  they  halted 
and  wavered.  This  time  they  deployed  in  line  of  battle  and 
commenced  a  fierce  fire  on  the  opposing  divisions;  accom- 
panied by  yells  peculiar  to  themselves — such  as  no  other 
civilized  troops  in  the  world  have  ever  uttered — not  a  hurrah, 
a  cheer,  or  even  a  roar,  but  a  shriek  as  dissonant  as  the 
Indian  war-whoop,  and  more  terrible. 

On  the  right  and  on  the  left  the  enemy  came  hurrying  up, 
their  columns  at  a  double  quick.  But  they  were  met  and 
brought  to  a  stand  at  every  point.  Their  artillery,  ordered  to 
the  front,  dashed  up  by  batteries,  took  positions,  unlimbered 
and  opened  savagely.  The  Union  batteries,  already  posted, 
commenced  their  splendid  practice.  Sheet  after  sheet  of 
deadly  flame  burst  from  one  side  and  the  other  of  the  com- 
batants ;  the  rattling  crack  of  the  volleys  of  firearms  became 
blended  with  the  heavy  metallic  ring  and  sullen  boom  of  the 
artillery  ;  and  the  first  battle  of  Malvern  Hill — that  which  was 
to  decide  the  approach  to  the  main  position — was  now  fairly 
begun. 

From  various  and  hitherto  unknown  paths  through  the 
woods  and  marshes,  the  gray-clads  came  on  in  swarms,  every 
moment  adding  to  the  formidable  character  of  the  attack,  the 
evident  numbers  of  the  assailants,  and  the  certainty  that  the 
struggle  was  to  be  a  close  and  terrible  one.  But  the  gather- 
ing thousands  were  fiercely  met  by  the  blue-clad  veterans  of 
the  Union,  and  repeatedly  driven  back  in  confusion.  Let  this 
be  recorded,  from  the  personal  knowledge  of  sharers  in  that 
combat — whatever  after-history  may  choose  to  consider  au- 
thority on  the  subject,— that  the  Federal  troops  never  'per- 
manently yielded  one  foot  of  ground  during  the  fight,  how- 
ever worn-out  with  fatigue,  embarrassed  by  a  cramped  po- 
sition, outnumbered  and  at  one  time  half-surrounded. 

It  has  before  been  said  that  the  Battle  of  Malvern  Hill  was 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  artillery  duels  known  to  the 
history  of  war  ;  and  though  the  most  splendid  effects  of  that 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  253 

terrible  arm  were  shown  at  a  later  period,  when  the  whole 
rfcnge  of  McClellan's  heavy  pieces  came  into  play,  yet  even 
now  the  effects  were  such  as  to  have  satisfied  the  very  Mo- 
loch of  destructive  war.  The  play  of  the  Union  regular 
batteries  was  beautiful,  (if  such  a  term  can  be  applied  to  that 
which  defaces  the  beauty  of  God's  handiwork,  in  however 
holy  a  cause.)  Every  shot  could  be  seen  to  tear  open  the 
dense  masses  of  the  enemy  in  wide  spaces,  through  which  the 
white  background  could  be  distinctly  seen  until  they  were 
closed  again  by  almost  superhuman  efforts.  The  volunteer 
batteries  seemed  little  behind  in  their  practice — their  solid 
shot  and  bursting  shell  falling  in  a  perpetual  shower  and 
making  fearful  havoc  alternately  in  the  solid  masses  of  the 
rebels  and  among  the  gunners  of  their  artillery. 

When  the  Confederates  opened  with  their  batteries,  General 
Porter,  accompanied  by  a  part  of  his  staff,  wras  occupying  the 
upper  slope  of  an  eminence  to  the  right,  from  which  a  tole- 
rably good  view  of  the  battle-ground  could  be  obtained.  It 
was  not  one  of  those  points  "from  which  all  the  details  of 
the  fight  could  be  taken  in  at  a  glance,"  according  to  the 
phraseology  of  many  of  the  graphic  describers  of  modern 
battles  ;  for  no  such  spot  has  ever  been  known,  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  any  extensive  conflict,  since  the  use  of  artillery 
covered  every  field  with  smoke  and  destroyed  the  romantic 
opportunities  for  observation  which  existed  in  the  days  of 
the  lance  and  the  cross-bow.  But  it  was  the  very  best  po- 
sition for  a  general  oversight  of  the  field,  attainable  under 
the  circumstances  ;  and  that  it  was  within  easy  range  of  the 
enemy's  missiles  was  demonstrated  by  one  of  the  very  first 
shot,  which  struck  a  tree  immediately  behind  the  General, 
shattering  it  to  pieces  and  severely  wounding  one  of  the  aid- 
de-camps  with  the  flying  splinters. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe,  in  such  form  that  it  can  be  re- 
alized by  the  reader,  this  fiercest  of  battle-fields  for  the  two 
hours  which  followed  the  first  attack.  Many  men  felt  it,  and 
of  those  who  live  to  tell  the  tale,  all  will  remember  it ;  but  it 
may  be  said  that  no  man  saw  it.  The  canvas  best  depicting 
it  would  be  deprived  of  all  the  essentials  of  a  picture,  and  merely 
made  a  chaos  of  destruction,  with  here  the  glint  of  a  gun  and 


254  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

there  the  flash  of  a  sabre  ;  here  a  momentary  view  of  a  black 
piece  of  heavy  artillery,  and  there  a  head,  an  arm  and  a  leg 
of  one  of  the  combatants  ;  here  a  puff  of  smoke,  and  there  a 
volley  of  belching  flame — but  all  indistinct,  terrible  and  in- 
describable. Solid  shot,  conical  shell  and  spherical  case  went 
humming,  hurtling  and  howling  through  the  air,  blotting  out 
rebels  and  slaying  loyalists.  The  leaden  messengers  of  the 
sharp-shooters  went  shrieking  to  their  living  targets,  killing, 
crippling  and  intimidating ;  buck,  ball  and  Minie  bullets  n 
and  made  their  marks  ;  and  the  rattling  volleys  of  companies 
and  platoons  became  at  length  blended  in  one  general  and 
irregular  burst  of  all  destructive  sounds  known  to  modern 
warfare. 

The  Union  ranks  were  of  course  sadly  thinned  by  the  mur- 
derous discharges  from  those  of  the  rebels,  even  if  their  own 
lire  was  so  effective.  The  odds  in  point  of  numbers  and  weight 
of  fire  was  heavily  against  them,  and  they  knew  it.  The  pres- 
tige of  success  was  not  theirs,  for  though  the  enemy  had  been 
beaten  in  almost  every  trial  of  arms  since  the  first  landing  on 
the  Peninsula,  yet  the  irresistible  force  of  circumstances  (and 
what  the  world  will  always  believe  blunders)  had  prevented 
their  reaping  the  fruits  of  those  repeated  victories,  and  the 
great  object  of  the  expedition — Richmond — had  been  daily 
receding  and  was  now  apparently  out  of  reach.  The  brilliant 
flank  movement  which  McClellan  was  executing,  seemed  to 
them  to  be  a  simple  retreat  which  was  to  take  the  remains  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to  the  James  River  for  the  purpose 
of  an  immediate  embarkation  and  abandonment  of  the  cam- 
paign. Men  less  heroic  would  have  grown  disheartened 
and  struck  feebly  in  the  midst  of  so  many  causes  of  discour- 
agement ;  and  the  able  review  of  the  Campaign  on  the  Penin- 
sula, by  a  true  man  and  a  soldier,  the  Prince  de  Joinville, 
shows  that  even  with  his  past  knowledge  of  their  bravery  and 
endurance  he  would  not  have  been  surprised  to  see  the  spirit 
of  the  whole  army  sinking  under  sufferings,  wrongs  and  dis- 
asters. Perhaps  such  would  have  been  the  case,  had  they 
had  less  confidence  in  their  leaders  ;  but  while  that  existed 
there  could  be  nothing  like  demoralization  ;  and  if  there  has 
ever  been  a  day  since  that  time,  when  the  same  noble  body 


SHOULDER-STRAP  S.  255 

of  men  and  the  others  who  have,  been  joined  with  or  replaced 
them,  have  displayed  that  hopeless  deterioration  of  efficiency 
as  an  army,  the  fault  has  lain  in  their  being  led  by  men. in 
whom  they  lacked  confidence  and  men  who  lacked  confidence 
in  themselves  !    [Jp  to  this  time  no  such  misfortune  had  fallen 
upon  them,     They  had  learned  to  suffer  and  endure,  but  they 
had  not  yet  learned  to  be  permanently  defeated.     Sumner, 
Franklin,  Kearney,  Jleintzelman,  Keyes  and  Fitz-John  Porter] 
but  above  all  McClellan, possessed  their  undivided  confidence; 
and  whenever,  at  any  point  of  the  retreat  towards  the  James', 
either  of  those  great  chiefs  had  appeared  in  their  midst  or 
ridden  along  their  battle-thinned  ranks— renewed  hope  and  en- 
ergy had  been  always  evinced  by  the  heartiest  acclamations. 
Particularly,  it  has  been  said,  was  this  the  case  with  McClel- 
lan.    Ifis  extraordinary  popularity  has  been  more  than  once 
incidentally  adverted  to,  in  the  course  of  this  narration  ;  and 
if  it  has  been  so,  the  cause  is  not  to  be  found  in  either  partisan 
spirit  or  man-worship  on  the  part  of  the  writer,  but  in  the 
unavoidable  necessity  of  echoing  what   "everybody  says." 
"Little  Mac"  was  then,  he  is  to-day,*  the   most'popular 
soldier  of  the  age,  whether  the  country  has  or  has  not  any- 
thing to  show  for  the  confidence  long  reposed  in  him  by  the 
government  and  the  immense  bodies  of  troops  at  one  time 
placed  at  his  disposal.     No  general  since  Napoleon  has  ever 
so  gained  the  love  of  his  soldiers  or  so  inspired  them  with 
confidence  in  his  will  and  ability  to  take  care  of  them  and  to 
accomplish  what  he  was  set  to  do,  if  not  interfered  with. 
Their  favorite  reply  to  any  suspicion  of  danger  to  any  corps 
was  :  "Little  Mac  will  take  care  of  us  !"  and  to  any  doubt  of 
the  success  of  the  campaign:  "Little  Mac  knows  what  he  is 
about  l»     Blind  confidence,  perhaps  !— but  such  confidence,  or 
something  approaching  it,  must  be  commanded  by  personal 
qualities,  or  great  operations  in  war  can  never  be  accomplished. 
A1  no  time  during  the  Peninsular  campaign  has  the  com- 
manding General  so  fully  commanded  the  confidence  of  the 
Soldiers,  as  during  all  those  severe  battles  afterwards  to  be 
known  as  the  Seven  Days.     His  calm  and  collected  action 

*  February  lGth,  1863. 


25t>  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

bad  been  of  the  very  character  to  inspire  that  confidence,  and 
could  not  have  wrought  more  effectually  to  that  end  had  it 
had  no  other  purpose.  Some  men,  jubilant  and  light-hearted 
when  all  their  plans  arc  progressing  favorably,  permit  their 
words  to  become  few  and  their  manner  sombre  and  abstracted 
when  difficulties  thicken,  creating  fear  and  distrust  in  the 
minds  of  those  around  them,  even  when  they  themselves  have 
not  lost  confidence  and  are  only  absorbed  in  thought.  M.cCh-1- 
lan,  always  a  silent  man,  displayed  the  very  opposite.  One 
of  his  staff  officers  said  of  him  on  that  terrible  Friday  after- 
noon of  the  first  conflict,  when  the  result  certainly  seemed  a 
most  threatening  one  for  the  Union  arms  :  "Little  Mac  seems 
to  have  woke  up  !  I  have  not  seen  him  look  so  happy  before, 
since  he  received  the  news  of  McDowell's  falling  back  on 
"Washington."  And  there  had  not  been  wanting  those  to  cir- 
culate throughout  the  army  his  confident  and  self-poss< 
action  on  the  morning  before — that  of  White  Oak  Swam]), 
when  he  sat  on  horseback  at  the  cross-roads,  with  aid-de- 
camps dashing  up  with  unfavorable  reports,  and  heads  of 
divisions  a  little  embarrassed  if  not  dispirited  around  him. 
"Gentlemen,  take  it  easy  !  Only  obey  me,  and  I  will  bring 
you  out  of  all  this  without  the  loss  of  a  man  or  a  gun,  God 
willing  !" 

Such  words  had  been  like  the  pause  of  the  Bruce  to  cut  his 
armor-strap  when  flying  before  the  English  enemy — they  had 
inspirited  the  whole  command.  He  had  remained,  too,  the 
whole  of  Monday,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  White  Oak 
Swamp,  personally  superintending  everything  and  hastening 
the  passage  of  the  immense  trains  onward  towards  the  James. 
Nothing  had  seemed  to  discourage  him,  and  no  exposure  in 
the  terrible  heat  had  seemed  to  fatigue  him  beyond  endurance. 
All  these  facts  had  crept  out  to  every  division  of  the  army, 
as  they  will  do  through  the  subtle  and  unaccountable  tele- 
graphism  of  comrade-ry ;  and  when  regiment  after  regiment- 
heard  of  the  incident  since  made  memorable  by  De  Joinville, 
of  his  rising  from  his  momentary  rest  on  the  piazza  of  a  house 
near  White  Oak  and  going  out  with  a  smile  to  prevent  his 
soldiers  picking  and  eating  the  cherries  belonging  to  his  pretty 
hostess,  they  had  burst  out  into  laughs  and  cheers  more  com- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  257 

plimentary  to  the  young  General's  pluck  than  his  devotion  to 
Nelly  Marcy,  and  fancied  that  he  might  have  been  engaged 
in  picking  other  cherries  for  himself,  that  grew  on  red  lips 
instead  of  on  the  tree  ! 

Such  were  the  influences  which  eombatted  those  otherwise 
so  unfavorable,  kept  up  their  spirits  even  when  they  could 
see  nothing  but  defeat  and  discouragement  in  every  move- 
ment, and  made  every  blow  they  struck  at  the  advancing 
enemy  more  deadly  than  the  last.  Such  were  the  influences 
peculiarly  active  on  this  day  when  they  were  so  much  needed, 
and  which  inspired  the  army-corps  of  Fitz-John  Porter  for 
the  memorable  blow  struck  in  the  first  battle  of  Malvern. 
The  rebel  South  will  long,  mourn  for  its  lost  children,  per- 
ished in  that  sanguinary  conflict  and  in  the  wider  and  more 
destructive  but  not  fiercer  one  which  was  so  soon  to  follow  at 
Malvern  Hill  itself. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

More  of  the  First  Battle  of  Malvern — A  Pause — 
The  Attacks  on  the  Main  Position — Repulse  after 
Repulse — Victory — Strange  Incidents  of  the  Last 
Hour  of  the  Battle. 

Sttll  the  battle  went  on — that  ferocious  attack  which 
Beemed  to  have  the  desperation  of  defence,  and  that  steady 
defence  which  appeared  to  have  the  assured  confidence  of  an 
attack.  The  smoke  gathered  rapidly,  rolled  away  at  times, 
then  settled  in  dense  masses,  shutting  out  portions  of  the 
battle-field  and  whole  divisions  of  either  army  from  view, 
and  concealing  the  movements  of  either  belligerent  from  the 
o+hcr  until  lifted  in  the  occasional  lulls  of  the  fiery  storm  or 
wafted  away  by  the  lazy  breeze  which  came  sluggishly  over 
from  the  James  River  marshes.  Men  fell  thickly,  crushed,  man- 
gled and  dead,  or  so  terribly  wounded  by  shot  or  shell  that 


258  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

life  could  be  henceforth  nothing  more  than  one  long,  helpless 
agony.  Slightly  wounded  soldiers  went  limping  to  the  rear, 
seeking  surgical  aid  ;  while  badly  wounded  men  were  eagerly 
caught  up  and  borne  off  the  field  by  their  "comrades  in  bat- 
tle" or  by  white-livered  recreants,  anxious  to  desert  their 
braver  companions  and  place  themselves  in  Bafety.  A  <<i- 
tain  percentage  of  such  craven-hearted  libels  on  humanity — 
let  it  be  said  here — are  always  to  be  found  in  every  army  and 
on  every  battle-field,  dusky  backgrounds  against  which  brave 
men  show  the  brighter,  and  ever  ready  to  take  advantage  of 
any  circumstance  that  will  help  them  to  the  rear.  In  the 
armies  of  the  older  and  more  warlike  nations  of  Europe, 
where  the  reins  of  discipline  are  much  more  tightly  drawn 
than  in  our  own,  such  skulking  is  prevented  by  regularly- 
organized  ambulance-parties  and  by  the  prompt  shooting 
down  of  any  officer  or  soldier,  not  wounded,  who  dares  to 
leave  the  ranks  without  orders.  Even  in  our  own  service,  a 
Taylor  is  occasionally  found,  fighting  such  a  desperate  battle 
as  that  of  the  Bad  Axe  against  the  Indians,  and  posting  a 
line  of  his  most  reliable  troops  in  the  rear,  with  ord< 
make  short  work  of  the  skulkers.  Such" discipline  as  this — 
an  enemy  in  front  and  an  equally  dangerous  body  of  friends 
behind,  is  generally  found  efficacious  even  for  the  weakest 
knees;  and  but  few  hours  of  such  experience  are  necessary 
to  produce  a  marked  change  in  the  steadiness  of  any  corps 
under  fire. 

Xoon  now  approached,  and  the  battle  had  raged  for  more 
than  two  hours,  without  any  intermission  except  the  occa- 
sional lulls  when  batteries  were  limbered  up  and  dragged  off 
at  a  gallop  to  new  positions,  and  when  regiments  deployed  in 
line  or  closed  in  column,  making  evolutions  to  the  flanks  or 
movements  to  the  front.  Attacks  had  been  fiercely  made  on 
every  portion  of  the  Union  lines  by  the  maddened  rebels — 
maddened,  as  was  afterwards  discovered,  by  the  gunpow- 
dered  whiskey  in  their  canteens  ;  and  they  had  been  quite  as 
fiercely  repulsed  by  the  loyal  troops,  who  neither  needed  nor 
received  any  such  stimulus.  This  defence  had  been  mate- 
rially assisted,  and  the  Federal  troops  enabled  to  gain  ground 
at  every  repulse  of  the  rebels,  by  the  arrival  of  several  regi- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  259 

merits  of  infantry  and  two  of  his  best  batteries,  sent  in  haste 
by  McClellan  from  hismain  position  at  MalvernHill,  so  soon 
as  the  roar  of  artillery  announced  that  the  fight  had  fairly 
began  with  the  rear-guard. 

A  little  before  meridian,  the  musket  fire  of  the  enemy 
slackened  perceptibly,  while  their  artillery,  operating  against 
the  Onion  left,  seemed  to  redouble  its  fury.  This  change 
was  at  once  made  known  to  Porter,  who  as  quickly  divined 
the  intention  of  Longstreet.  This  was  to  engage  all  atten- 
tion with  the  Federal  left,  while  several  of  his  divisions, 
passing  rapidly  through  roadways  and  obscure  paths  in  the 
woods  known  only  to  the  native  Virginians,  were  to  take  the 
right  wing  in  flank.  Porter  immediately  directed  counter 
movements  to  meet  them — movements  admirably  calculated 
and  as  admirably  executed.  Burns,  with  his  own  and  twTo 
other  brigades,  moved  rapidly  to  the  right  and  deployed  in 
line  opposite  the  edge  of  the  white  oaks  from  which  the 
rebels  must  emerge  to  make  their  attack.  Four  batteries 
went  up  at  a  trot  and  took  position  where  they  were  masked 
by  a  fringe  of  bushes  and  some  patches  of  tall  corn.  From 
this  point  the  artillery  could  concentrate  a  terrible  fire  of 
grape,  canister  and  short-fuse  shell  upon  any  part  of  the  op- 
posite woods  from  which  the  enemy  might  make  their  appear- 
ance. The  infantry  were  ordered  to  lie  down,  and  were  con- 
coaled  from  view  by  clumps  of  trees,  corn  and  underbrush. 
This  repelling  force  was  not  kept  long  in  suspense,  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  movement  had  not  been  made  a  moment  too 
soon  for  safety.  Suddenly  from  the  shadow  of  the  white-oaks, 
out  came  the  Confederates  by  regiments,  without  tap  of  drum 
or  bugle-call,  pouring  from  the  various  openings  in  double- 
quick  time,  and  by  the  right  and  left  flanks.  They  filed  rap- 
idly right  and  left  until  the  woods  were  cleared  ;  then  by  a 
halt  and  face-to-the-front  they  were  brought  quickly  into  line 
of  battle.  A  halt  of  very  brief  space  to  align  and  close  up 
ranks,  and  they  were  ordered  forward  to  the  attack.  On 
thoy  came,  in  close  order  and  with  long  swaying  lines,  exult- 
ing in  the  prospect  of  a  successful  issue  to  their  bold  move- 
ment, and  so  confident  that  the}r  would  take  the  Federal  flank 
and  rear  by  complete  surprise,  that  silence  was  no  longer 


206  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

felt  to  be  necessary  and  yells  and  shouts  of  triumph  w  <■)•.• 
beginning  to  burst  from  one  portion  and  another  of  thtfir 
line.  Still  on  they  came,  and  not  a  shot  had  been  fired  on 
either  side  since  they  emerged  from  the  woods.  Their  left 
was  thrown  forward  in  advance  of  the  centre  and  right, 
seeking  to  surround  the  positions  supposed  to  be  held  by  the 
Federal  troops.  They  were  even  allowed  to  advance  within 
pistol-shot  of  some  portions  of  the  ambuscade,  before  the 
trap  laid  for  them  was  sprung. 

Then  what  a  change  ! — like  that  when  the  thunder-storm, 
long  gathering  but  still  silent,  breaks  at  once  into  desolating 
fury.  It  seemed  as  if  at  one  and  the  same  instant  the  four  Union 
Latteries  opened,  and  a  terrible  concentrating  storm  of  flame 
and  projectiles  leaped  from  the  muzzles  of  twenty-four  pieces 
of  artillery  and  burst  upon  their  centre  with  devastating  effect. 
In  an  instant  after,  the  infantry  sprung  to  their  feet,  and  a 
sheet  of  fire  burst  from  right  to  left,  one  deadly  and  irresist- 
ible shower  of  lead  sweeping  through  the  rebel  ranks  that 
had  so  little  expected  such  a  reception.  They  hesitated — 
halted — recoiled.  Before  they  could  recover  from  the  awful 
shock,  volley  after  volley  was  poured  into  their  wavering  lines, 
and  they  could  not  again  be  brought  forward.  On  the  instant 
when  their  discomfiture  was  clearly  perceived,  a  charge  was 
ordered  against  them.  The  Union  men  dashed  forward,  glad 
to  have  that  order  at  last,  and  breaking  into  ringing  cheers — 
the  first  in  which  they  had  indulged  that  day.  The  rebels 
could  not  stand  a  moment  before  that  impetuous  onset,  but 
broke  and  ran  for  the  cover  of  the  white-oaks,  leaving  the 
ground  of  the  conflict  almost  impassable  with  the  terrible  piles 
of  their  dead  and  wounded. 

A  general  advance  of  our  lines  was  now  ordered,  and  the 
command  was  obeyed  with  alacrity.  The  rebel  front,  weak- 
ened by  the  withdrawal  of  so  many  troops  for  the  grand  flank- 
ing movement,  gave  way  before  they  could  be  reached  with 
the  steel  ;  and  their  three-deep  lines  became  mixed  up  in  the 
most  hopeless  disorder.  Kearney's  division  made  a  gallant 
charge,  in  this  movement,  Sickles'  Excelsior  Brigade  once 
more  evidencing  that  splendid  steadiness  with  the  bayonet 
which  had  been  so  conspicuous  at  Williamsburgh  and  Fair 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  261 

Oaks.  General  Heintzelman  joined  in  this  brilliant  advance, 
his  tall  form  and  blue  blouse  conspicuous  as  he  rode  rapidly 
along  the  lines,  speaking  words  of  cheer  and  steadying  the 
men  who  did  not  need  urging  forward. 

The  Union  batteries  had  meanwhile  kept  up  their  terrible 
fire,  while  those  of  the  enemy  were  silenced  one  after  another 
and  drawn  off  with  the  recoiling  troops,  with  the  exception 
of  one  battery,  which  maintained  its  fire  with  invincible  ob- 
stinacy. It  was  felt  that  this  battery  must  be  taken  or  silenced. 
A  stream  of  men  in  dingy  French  blue  were  seen  to  leap  for- 
ward, and  it  was  known  that  the  Excelsior  boys  were  making 
a  dash  at  the  battery.  The  gunners  saw  the  movement,  began 
to  limber  up  their  pieces  and  succeeded  in  galloping  away  with 
four  of  them.  But  the  two  remaining  guns  could  not  be 
handled  quickly  enough,  and  the«Excelsiors  took  them  with  a 
rush  and  a  cheer,  and  in  such  excellent  spirits  that  one  of 
them  was  the  moment  after  sitting  astride  of  each  gun  and 
waving  his  cap  in  token  of  victory.  The  battle-flag  of  one 
of  the  Georgia  regiments,  and  three  hundred  prisoners,  were 
also  captured  in  this  gallant  dash,  which  effectually  showed 
how  little  the  spirits  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  had  been 
damped  by  recent  misfortunes.  General  Heintzelman  lost  his 
horse  by  the  last  fire  of  one  of  the  captured  pieces,  and  at  the 
same  time  received  a  wound  in  the  arm — fortunately  not 
serious.  The  repulse  of  the  rebels  was  now  complete.  Long- 
street  was  compelled  to  "  retire"  and  not  by  any  means  in 
"  good  order,"  leaving  the  field  with  its  dead  and  wounded, 
and  many  arms  and  other  trophies,  in  the  possession  of  the 
Federal  forces. 

Of  course  this  success  could  not  be  followed  up,  the  object 
of  the  battle  having  been  to  secure  an  uninterrupted  line  of 
march  to  the  James  River.  And  of  course  the  Union  generals 
were  well  aware  that  while  the  rebels  possessed  any  remain- 
ing strength,  they  would  not  give  up  their  cherished  object 
of  crippling  or  destroying  the  main  body  before  it  could  reach 
the  shelter  of  the  river  and  the  gun-boats.  Fresh  troops 
would  be  brought  up ;  and  but  little  time  would  be  allowed 
the  Federal  troops  to  recover  from  the  fatigue  and  excitement 
of  that  arduous  morning.     The  rebel  plan  evidently  was  to 


262  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

give  the  Federal  forces  do  rest — to  precipitate  fresh  masses  of 
their  own  troops  continually  upon  them,  when  weary  mid 
exhausted  with  previous  fighting;  and  when  they  were  at 
last  fairly  worn  out  and  incapable  of  further  exertion,  to 
■•  gobble  them  up''  (to  use  an  expressive,  though  not  el< 
phrase)  or  destroy  them  in  detail  and  at  leisure.  The  theory 
;  dmirable,  and  both  brain  and  heart  were  necessary  10 
prevent  its  being  carried  out  in  successful  practice. 

The  Federal  dead  were  buried  on  the  field  where  they  had 
so  bravely  fallen ;  the  wounded  were  sent  on  to  Harrison's 
Landing ;  the  slaughtered  rebels  were  left  to  the  tender  care 
of  their  approaching  comrades  ;  the  prisoners  were  gathered 
together  and  put  properly  under  guard  ;  and  then  the  army- 
corps  of  General  Fitz-John  Porter  fell  back  under  previous 
orders  to  the  strong  position  of  Malvern  Hill  proper,  where 
McClellan  was  certain  he  would  at  once  be  attacked  by  the 
rebels  in  force,  its  possession  being  the  most  important  point 
in  their  plan  of  action,  and  its  triumphant  retention  one  of  the 
most  important  in  his  own. 

The  first  battle  of  Malvern  was  ended;  but  the  curtain  was 
soon  to  rise  on  a  still  more  fearful  scene  of  slaughter  and  one 
yet  more  uneven  in  its  character  as  regarded  the  losses  of 
the  Union  army  and  the  rebels. 

The  main  position  occupied  by  McClellan  was  a  splendid 
one  for  defence  ;  and,  thanks  to  what  De  Joinville  calls  the 
"  happy  foresight  of  the  General,  who,  notwithstanding  all 
the  hindrances  presented  by  the  nature  of  the  soil  to  his 
numerous  artillery,  had  spared  no  pains  to  bring  it  with 
him" — the  preparations  for  holding  that  position  were  mag- 
nificently adequate.  The  extreme  right  flank  was  compara- 
tively narrow,  and  as  it  was  a  point  liable  to  a  determined 
attack,  strong  earth-works  had  been  hastily  thrown  up  en- 
tirely across  it,  and  it  had  been  further  protected  by  a  thick, 
impenetrable  mass  of  abattis,  the  materials  for  which  were  so 
plentifully  furnished  by  the  Virginia  woods  and  in  the  con- 
struction of  which  the  quasi-mechanical  army  was  rapidly 
efficient.  The  left  was  protected  by  the  James  Kiver  and 
the  terror-inspiring  gun-boats.  In  front  the  hill  sloped 
gently  down  to  the  Charles  City  and  Richmond  road,  and 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  263 

other  points  by  Which  the  enemy  must  debouch  to  begin  the 
attack.  On  this  natural  plateau  not  less  than  three  hundred 
pieces  of  artillery — a  number  fabulous  in  any  preceding  strug- 
gle in  the  history  of  the  world — were  placed  in  battery  ;  so 
arranged  that  they  would  not  interfere  with  the  fire  of  the 
infantry  along  the  natural  glacis  up  which  the  assailants 
Would  be  obliged  to  advance  unsheltered.  In  the  skirts  of 
the  woods  lying  beyond  the  foot  of  the  hills,  long  lines  of 
ri tic- pits  had  been  dug — these,  and  the  woods  beyond,  occu- 
pied by  a  brigade  of  Maine  and  Wisconsin  infantry  and  a  por- 
tion of  Berdan's  celebrated  regiment,  to  act  as  sharp-shooters. 

The  sun  was  sinking  rapidly  westward  in  the  direction  of 
llichmond — that  coveted  capital  of  Secessia,  for  the  pos- 
session of  which  so  much  blood  and  treasure  had  been 
unavailingly  expended  ;  the  trees,  which  for  so  many  hours 
had  a  Horded  no  shelter  from  the  blinding  blaze,  except  imme- 
diately beneath  their  spreading  branches  and  dust-dimmed 
leaves,  began  to  cast  long  shadows  eastward ;  and  the  fervent 
heat  began  to  be  more  sensibly  tempered  by  the  breeze  creep- 
ing in  from  the  placid  James.  Still  the  Union  troops  were 
resting  on  their  arms,  weary  but  undaunted,  awaiting  the 
approach  of  the  Confederates,  then  (at  five  o'clock)  reported 
as  advancing  to  the  attack.  The  line  was  formed  as /olio  ws  : 
the  remnants  of  Porter's  and  Sumner's  corps  on  the  right ; 
Franklin  and  Heintzelman  in  the  centre  ;  and  Couch 's  divi- 
sion of  Keyes'  corps  on  the  left.  In  position,  on  the  left, 
were  two  New  York  batteries,  Robertson's  United  Slates 
battery  of  six  pieces,  Allen's  Massachusetts  and  Kern's  Penn- 
sylvania batteries.  Griffin's  United  States  battery,  Wceden's 
Rhode  Island,  and  three  from  New  York,  held  positions  in 
the  centre.  On  the  right  were  Tidball's,  Weed's  and  Car- 
lisle's regular  batteries,  a  German  battery  of  twenty-four 
pounders,  a  battery  belonging  to  the  Pennsylvania  reserve, 
and  one  New  York  battery — in  all  about  eighty  pieces. 

Within  a  few  minutes  of  five  the  signal  officers  at  the 
various  stations  waved  their  telegraphic  bunting,  announcing 
the  approach  of  the  rebels  under  Magrudcr,  and  immediately 
afterwards  they  appeared  in  sight,  in  large  dense  mass*  j 
reaching  apparently  quite  across  the  country  to  the  West, 


264:  S  II  O  U  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  B  A  P  S. 

North-west  and  West-south-west, — with  cavalry  on  either 
flank  and  artillery  thickly  scattered  at  various  points,  ail 
along  their  line.  Stretching  away  from  the  foot  of  Malvern 
Hill,  in  the  hostile  direction,  lay  a  large  open  space  known 
as  Carter's  Field — a  field  destined  that  day  to  be  more  thickly 
sown  with  dead  than  almost  any  historic  spot  on  the  globe 
except  some  portions  of  the  field  of  Waterloo  or  that  of 
Grokow.  It  was  a  mile  long  by  three  quarters  of  a  mile  in 
breadth,  enclosed  by  thick  woods  on  the  three  distant  sides, 
while  that  towards  the  Hill  was  open.  On  the  two  sides 
flanking  the  enemy's  approach  our  sharp-shooters  were  prin- 
cipally concealed.  Entirely  across  Carter's  Field  stretched 
the  rebel  line,  while  in  depth  their  columns  extended  so  far 
back  that  the  eye  of  the  signal  officer  lost  them  in  a  wavering 
line  far  away  in  the  thick  woods  extending  beyond  the  scene 
of  the  morning's  battle. 

The  Union  forces  rose  up  wearily  but  steadily,  and  awaited 
the  approach  of  the  Confederate  host,  known  to  be  at  least 
twice  or  thrice  their  own  number,  and  led  on  by  that  sangui- 
nary commander  otherwise  described  by  a  writer  who  accom- 
panied him  through  all  his  battles  in  the  United  States  service 
and  thoroughly  knows  his  habits  of  speech  and  action,* — as 
"  the  flowery  and  ever-thirsty  John  Bankhead  Magruder — 
the  pet  of  Newport  and  the  petter  of  old  wine."  The  rebels 
moved  forward  in  good  order  ;  slowly  at  first,  and  then,  as  if 
spurred  on  irresistibly  from  behind  in  all  parts  of  the  field, 
the  whole  dingy-gray  mass  broke  from  the  "  common  time'' 
step  into  that  "  dog-trot"  known  in  the  tactics  of  the  present 
day  as  the  "  double-quick.''  At  the  same  moment  they  broke 
into  those  shrieks  of  horrible  dissonance,  remarked  in  the 
fight  of  the  morning,  rising  even  above  the  din  of  the  opening 
artillery,  and  more  resembling  the  whoops  of  the  copper- 
skinned  warriors  of  the  renegade  Albert  Pike,  than  soldiers 
of  what  is  called  a  Christian  nation,  led  on  by  a  commander 
believing  himself  the  very  "  pink  of  chivalry." 

Gallantly,  it  must  be  owned  by  all  who  saw  the  movement, 
did  the  gray-clads  spring  forward  to  the  encounter,  rushing 

*  White — "  Mexican  War  Sketches." 


3  H  0  U  LDKR-S  T  BAPS,  21 15 

over  the  field  at  an  accelerating  speed  which  soon  increased 
to  a  full  run.  Then  and  not  till  then  again  burst  the  deadly 
storm  of  defence.  From  the  Federal  lines  across  the  hill 
there  belched  murderous  blasts  of  grape  and  canister  into 
their  front,  and  from  the  rifle-pits  and  woods  went  shriek- 
ing showers  of  rifle  shots  and  Minie  balls  into  their  flanks, 
the  two  terrible  influences  almost  sweeping  them  away 
like  leaves  caught  by  the  gale.  They  fell  by  hundreds  at  a 
(discharge,  encumbering  the  ground  and  leaving  wide  gaps  in 
their  ranks;  yet  still  their  dense  columns  closed  again  and 
dashed  resolutely  up,  until  more  than  two-thirds  the  distance 
across  Carter's  Field  was  accomplished.  Here  the  carnage, 
from  the  combined  effects  of  artillery  and  small-arms  at  short 
range,  became  absolutely  terrible  among  the  rebels — such  a 
spectacle  as  even  loyal  soldiers,  gazing  at  it,  could  not  but 
feel  to  be  a  species  of  wholesale  murder  for  which  the  cause 
could  no  more  than  give  excuse.  The  bones  in  the  rebel 
regiments  seemed  to  be  crushed  like  window-glass  in  a  hail- 
storm; masses  of  gory  pulp  that  had  but  a  few  moments 
before  been  men,  began  to  form  an  absolute  coating  for  the 
ground  ;  and  the  fierce  yells  of  attack  had  become  awfully 
commingled  with  the  shrieks  of  those  mangled  beyond  en- 
durance and  dying  in  agony.  It  was  too  much  for  human 
bravery  to  withstand — probably  no  troops  in  the  world 
would  have  stood  longer  under  that  withering  fire,  than  the 
brave  but  misguided  tools  of  the  secession  heresy.  Their 
lines  began  to  waver  with  a  rickettv.  swaying  motion,  to  and 
fro,  as  if  the  whole  body  was  one  man  and  he  was  exhausted 
and  tottering;  then  there  was  a  movement  to  the  "right 
about,"  and  the  whole  head  of  the  column  sought  hasty  shel- 
ter under  the  friendly  woods  in  the  rear,  from  which  they 
had  so  lately  debouched. 

A  terrific  artillery-duel  proper  was  now  commenced,  and 
kept  up  for  more  than  an  hour,  the  Confederates  showing  no 
disposition  to  renew  the  attack,  and  .the  Federal  forces  con- 
tented to  hold  them  at  bay  under  circumstances  in  which 
the  balance  of  damage  by  artillery  must  be  so  largely  in  their 
own  favor.  Then  came  a  sudden  lull  in  the  storm,  during 
which  the  Confederates  made   preparations  to  capture  the 


21)6  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

flanking  rifle-pits  of  the  Federals,  which  had  annoyed  them 
so  severely  in  the  charge.  Several  desperate  attempts  won- 
made  upon  them  in  quick  succession,  and  they  were  taken  and 
retaken  repeatedly.  In  the  end,  however,  they  were  perma- 
nently held  by  the  defenders,  whose  stubborn  pluck,  aided  by 
the  enfilading  fire  of  the  advanced  batteries,  proved  mote  than 
a  match  for  the  determined  bravery  of  the  attacking  forces. 

On  the  summit  of  Malvern  Hill,  and  nearly  in  the  middle 
of  the  plateau  formed  by  the  whole  eminence,  stands  a  red 
brick  mansion-house,  quaintly  built,  antique  and  sombre. 
The  house  is  of  two  stories,  long  and  low.  Solemn  shade- 
trees  surround  it ;  and  corn  and  wheat  fields  stretch  away 
from  the  Virginia  fences  of  its  spacious  yard,  down  the  -lope 
of  the  hill  and  across  the  lowland  to  the  margin  of  the  James. 
In  time  of  peace,  this  old  house  boasted  a  most  charming 
situation,  and  the  view  from  the  verandah  was  one  of  the  very 
finest  in  the  country,  taking  in  at  a  glance  the  long  line  of 
the  winding  river  for  many  miles  in  either  direction,  and 
looking  up  the  river,  the  high  range  of  bluffs  on  the  other 
side  on  which  has  been  erected  that  serious  obstacle  t<>  an 
advance  on  Richmond  by  water — Fort  Darling.  At  the 
eastern  end  of  the  mansion  stand  the  inevitable  "negro- 
quarters,''  now  empty  and  deserted,  and  with  nothing  about 
them  to  remind  one  of  their  former  dusky  denizens,  except 
that  unmistakable  odor  which  supplies  an  obvious  parody  on 
Moore's  aroma  of  the  roses  in  the  broken  vase.  Opposite  the 
west  end  of  the  house  is  a  deep,  roof-covered  well ;  and 
around  this  crowds  of  the  wounded  and  thirsty  Union  soldiers 
were  continually  gathered  during  the  fight,  drinking  in,  as  fa^t 
as  permitted,  that  sweetest  as  well  as  freest  of  Xature's  bless- 
ings— water. 

On  the  west  gable  of  this  mansion,  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
battle,  a  signal-officer  was  stationed,  with  his  ten-foot  staff 
and  odd-shaped  parti-colored  yard  of  muslin,  and  his  field- 
glass.  His  view  extended  far  in  the  direction  of  Richmond, 
taking  in  the  various  camps  of  Wise's  Legion,  Jackson's  and 
Huger's  divisions,  and  others  of  the  rebel  forces  ;  while  river- 
wards  his  eye  could  easily  reach,  with  the  aid  of  the  glass  and 
when  the  smoke  of  the  field  did  not  arise  too  thickly,  the  famed 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  267 

Prury's  Bluff  and  the  redoubtable  Fort  Darling  itself,  still 
frowning  defiance  at  the  threatening  little  Monitor. 

The  failure  to  take  the  rifle-pits  had  been  followed  by  a 
second  lull,  betokening,  to  the  experienced  soldier,  fresh  rebel 
preparations  for  an  attack  in  another  quarter.  Suddenly,  when 
i  be  sun  was  just  sending  the  last  of  its  rays  through  the  murky 
clouds  of  the  battle-field,  as  if  in  indication  that  the  eye  of 

heaven  had  not  wholly  deserted  the  brotherhood  of  Cain, the 

federal  signal- officers  in  the  distance  waved  their  flags,  and 
other  signal-officers  in  the  vicinity  repeated  their  motions. 
These  pantomimic  exhibitions,  mysterious  to  the  unpractised 
eye,  told  to  the  officers  in  command,  that  the  Confederates, 
Strongly  reinforced  by  the  fresh  troops  of  Jackson  and  Huger' 
:nid  their  troops  inspired  by  fresh  draughts  of  the  maddening 
gunpowdered  whiskey,  were  being  marshalled  for  another  and 
final  attack  upon  the  Federal  position. 

But  a  few  moments  elapsed  before  the  roar  of  the  Confeder- 
ate batteries  gave  proof  that  this  warning  had  not  been  in 
vain.  Every  piece  they  could  bring  to  bear  sent  its  missiles 
of  death  hurtling  into  the  Union  lines,  the  next  charge  to  be 
made  under  cover  of  that  cannonade.  But  probably  even  they 
had  not  calculated  upon  such  a  reply  as  was  given  by  the 
artillery  of  McClellan.  Never  before,  since  war  became  a 
science  of  butchery,  did  so  many  pieces  thunder  at  once  upon 
the  devoted  ranks  of  any  attacking  force.  Never  before  were 
the  very  peals  of  the  artillery  of  heaven  so  terribly  rivalled. 
Only  a  portion  of  the  Union  guns  had  before  been  brought 
into  play :  now  nearly  the  whole  three  hundred  belched  forth 
their  deadly  defiance  in  crashing  and  booming  repetitions. 
Those  who  heard  the  sound  will  never  forget  it ;  nor  will 
many  of  them  live  to  hear  that  sound  repeated.  Far  away 
among  the  mountains,  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant,  the 
boom  of  that  terrible  cannonade  was  heard,  announcing  the 
conflict  to  loyalist  and  rebel  who  had  no  other  means  of  know- 
in:-'-  that  it  was  in  progress.  At  times  the  firm  earth  shook 
with  the  continued  reverberations,  as  if  an  earthquake  was 
passing;  and  combatants  even  stood  still  in  the  very  face  of 
the  deadliest  danger,  under  a  momentary  impression  that  some 
fearful  convulsion  of  nature  must  be  in  progress  and  that  the 
j  i 


268  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

sinking  sun  must  be  going  down  on  the  last  clay  of  a  crum- 
bling earth. 

The  rebel  artillery  was  skilfully  managed,  and  their  range 
proved  to  be  excellent  ;  while  the  management  and  effect  of 
the  Union  guns  can  only  be  described  by  one  word — magnifi- 
cent. The  superior  weight  and  management  of  the  Federal 
metal  was  manifest  from  one  fact  if  no  other — the  continual 
limbering  up  and  changing  positions  of  the  rebel  piec 
escape  the  deadly  aim  of  artillerymen  who  have  probably 
never  been  excelled  in  any  service.  The  only  historian  who 
has  as  yet  dealt  with  the  events  of  that  great  day,*  says  that 
it  was  "  madness  for  the  Confederates  to  rush  against  such 
obstacles, "and  that  during  the  entire  day,  owing  to  the  weight 
and  superior  management  of  the  Federal  artillery,  they  fought 
"without  for  a  single  moment  having  a  chance  of  success."' 
And  yet  this  was  the  artillery  of  an  army,  and  this  was  the 
army  itself,  spoken  of  by  detractors  as  "defeated"  and  "de- 
moralized," and  utterly  incapable  of  further  offensive  move 
ments  against  Richmond,  however  rested  and  reinforced  ! 

Under  cover  of  the  smoke  of  this  fire,  the  mighty  hosts  of 
Huger,  Jackson  and  Magruder  advanced  to  the  second  gene- 
ral assault.  Onward  they  rushed,  and,  emerging  from  the 
sulphurous  clouds,  rolled  forward  in  heavy  columns.  They 
presented  a  still  more  imposing  front  than  at  the  first  attack, 
stretching  more  than  half  a  mile  across  the  fatal  Carter's 
Field,  with  scarce  a  break  or  an  interval  in  its  entire  length. 
On  they  pressed — steadily,  resolutely,  desperately — pausing  an 
instant  to  pour  in  their  fire,  and  then  forward  again  at  quick 
step.  The  advance  was  met  with  belching  volumes  from  rifles, 
muskets  and  batteries,  sending  such  storms  of  "leaden  rain 
and  iron  hail"  as  no  body  of  men  on  earth  could  hope  to 
withstand,  and  joining  with  the  shrieks  and  shouts  of  the 
combatants  and  the  dying,  to  create  such  a  din  as  might  well 
have  given  the  impression  that  the  chains  of  Pandemonium 
were  unloosed  and  all  the  lost  replying  to  the  thunders  of 
heaven  with  screams  of  blasphemy  and  desperation. 

At  this  moment,  too,  a  new  element  of  terror  and  de- 

*  De  Joinville. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  269 

struction  broke  suddenly  into  the  conflict.  As  if  the  powers 
of  the  air  had  indeed  begun  to  take  part  in  the  struggle, 
fiery  meteors  fell  out  of  the  air,  from  a  direction  not  com- 
manded by  the  Federal  batteries — fiery  meteors  before  which 
whole  ranks  of  men  seemed  like  stubble  before  the  scythe. 
One  of  them  would  fall  hissing  through  the  air,  burst  with  a 
horrible  explosion,  and  the  moment  after  nothing  would  re- 
main of  the  ranks  of  rebels  within  thirty  or  forty  feet  of  it, 
but  a  mass  of  shattered  and  mangled  fragments,  limbs  torn 
from  limbs  and  heads  from  bodies.  At  first  the  rebels  could 
not  understand  the  meaning  of  this  new  and  awful  visita- 
tion, and  even  the  Union  troops  were  not  for  the  time  aware 
what  new  power  had  come  to  their  aid,  destroying  more  of 
the  enemy  at  a  blow  than  their  heaviest  and  best-served  bat- 
teries. But  the  signal  officer  on  the  gable  of  the  old  man- 
sion on  Malvern  Hill  saw,  and  soon  communicated  the  fact 
to  the  officers  in  command — that  the  gun-boats  Galena  and 
Aroostook  (not  the  Monitor,  as  has  been  sometimes  reported), 
had  steamed  up  from  their  anchorage  at  Curl's  Neck,  two 
miles  below,  and  opened  furious  broadsides  of  shell  from  their 
heavy  rifled  guns.  These  shells  were  the  terrible  missiles 
working  that  untold  destruction  in  the  rebel  ranks  ;  and  the 
horrors  and  dangers  of  the  fight  to  them  must  have  been  in- 
tensely aggravated  by  these  fiery  monsters  that  came  tearing 
and  shrieking  through  the  forest  and  exploded  with  concus- 
sions that  shook  the  earth  like  discharges  from  whole  bat- 
teries. Only  after  the  battle  was  over  could  the  ravages 
made  by  this  agency  be  fully  appreciated,  from  the  effects 
produced  on  natural  objects  lying  in  the  line  of  their  course. 
In  many  places,  avenues  rods  long  and  many  feet  in  width, 
were  cut  through  the  tree-tops  and  branches;  and  in  not  a 
few  instances,  great  trees,  three  and  four  feet  in  diameter, 
fcrere  burst  open  from  branch  to  root,  split  to  shreds  and  scat- 
tered in  splinters  in  all  directions. 

Panting,  swearing,  whooping  and  bleeding,  the  Confederate 
lines  had  been  pushed  on,  until  they  had  reached  a  point 
nearly  as  far  in  advance  as  in  the  former  attack.  But  here, 
beneath  the  storm  of  canister,  case-shot  and  grape-shot, 
solid-shot,  shell  and  musketry,  human  endurance  failed  and 


270  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

even  the  madness  of  intoxication  grow  useless.  The  hurri- 
cane of  metal  was  too  deadly  for  mortal  man  to  withstand. 
No  efforts  could  urge  them  further  forward ;  and  finding  it 
impossible  to  run  to  the  end  that  gauntlet  of  iron  and  lead, 
they  once  more  wavered  and  broke,  faced  about  and  sought 
the  shelter  of  the  woods,  leaving  Carter's  Field  burdened  with 
its  second  terrible  harvest  of  death  for  that  day — the  dead  in 
actual  heaps  and  winrows,  and  the  wounded  one  mere  strug- 
gling, writhing  and  groaning  mass. 

But  why  repeat  the  story  that  has  no  variety  except  in 
horror  ?  Again  and  again,  with  fresh  troops  flung  every 
time  to  the  front,  that  mad  attempt  to  carry  Malvern  Hill 
was  repeated  and  repulsed.  An  attack — a  repulse  ;  and 
each  time  with  added  but  never-varied  slaughter.  The  con- 
sumption of  raw  spirits  among  the  rebel  ranks  must  have 
been  enormous  during  the  day  ;  for  every  rebel  canteen  found 
on  the  field  had  been  filled  with  that  maddening  compound, 
with  or  without  the  fiendish  addition  of  the  sulphur  and  ni- 
tre of  gunpowder.  Their  attacks  were  like  the  rolling  of 
billows  toward  a  beach  :  their  waves  of  battle  swept  up  with 
raging  fierceness,  but  broke  and  receded  at  every  dash ;  and, 
like  the  waves  when  the  tide  is  fast  ebbing,  the  surging  lines 
broke  farther  off  at  each  advance.  The  attack  on  Malvern 
Hill  had  failed — at  what  a  fearful  expenditure  of  valor  and 
courage  on  the  part  of  the  Union  troops,  only  those  who 
participated  can  ever  know ; — and  at  what  a  cost  of  life  to 
the  rebels,  only  that  Eye  which  looked  down  from  a  greater 
height  than  that  of  the  signal-officer  on  the  gable  of  the  old 
mansion,  could  have  power  to  measure  ! 

During  the  last  of  these  rebel  attacks,  the  gun-boats  were 
signalled  to  cease  firing,  lest  their  shells  might  prove  equally 
fatal  to  friends  and  foes;  and  the  Union  forces  were  ordered 
to  prepare  for  an  advance,  as  Porter  had  determined  to  act, 
temporarily  at  least,  on  the  offensive,  and  thus  crown  the 
events  of  a  day  which  had  been  virtually  one  of  splendid  vic- 
tory for  the  Union  arms.  Just  when  the  rebels  were  halting 
and  wavering  under  the  effects  of  the  renewed  artillery  fire 
poured  out  to  meet  them,  Burns',  Meagher's,  Dana's  and 
French's  brigades,  of  the  right,  were  ordered  to  charge.    The 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  271 

order  did  not  come  too  soon  for  the  brave  fellows  who  had 
been  chafing  like  caged  lions  at  the  necessity  of  fighting  all 
day  on  the  defensive.  Right  gallantly  and  with  ringing  cheers 
did  they  spring  forward,  until  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
enemy,  when  they  halted  and  sent  a  scorching  fire  of  mus- 
ketry directly  into  their  faces.  Couch's  division  on  the  left 
had  been  thrown  forward  almost  at  the  same  moment,  and 
the  order  was  obeyed  with  equal  alacrity  and  effect.  Then 
the  whole  line  was  ordered  to  advance,  and  away  they  went 
with  ringing  shouts,  like  so  many  confined  school-boys  sud- 
denly let  out  for  an  hour's  play,  but  going,  alas  1 — to  a  game 
of  "  ball"  that  entailed  death  on  many  of  the  players. 

The  brave  Irishmen  of  Meagher  were  already  in  the  ad- 
vance, blazing  and  chopping  away  with  that  indomitable  good 
humor  which  seems  to  be  the*  normal  condition  of  the  Hi- 
bernian when  fairly  launched  into  his  darling  fight.  In  this 
general  advance  Duryea's  bl&e,  red  and  baggy  Zouaves  led 
the  way,  as  they  had  done  in  many  a  fight  before,  and  always 
with  success, — dashing  savagely  on  the  foe  with  ear-splitting 
shouts  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  borrowed  from  the  well- 
known  war-cry  of  the  corresponding  regiments  in  the  French 
service.  The  long  Federal  line  of  bristling  steel  pushed  on 
at  double-quick  with  irresistible  force  ;  and  it  was  only  for  an 
instant  that  any  portion  of  the  Confederate  line  stood  to  meet 
it.  At  last  discouraged  and  appalled — perhaps  as  much  by 
the  appearance  and  the  war-cry  of  the  never-defeated  Zouaves 
as  by  any  other  agency  that  could  have  been  brought  to  bear 
upon  them, — they  first  wavered  in  front,  then  grew  unsteady  in 
the  main  body,  and  at  last  broke  and  fled  in  confusion  and  in- 
decent haste,  seeking  once  more  the  shelter  of  the  woods  from 
which  they  were  no  more  to  emerge  as  an  attacking  party. 

The  Federal  troops  were  not  allowed  to  follow  them  to  the 
woods,  night  falling  and  the  commander  being  indisposed  to 
allow  his  exhausted  troops  any  further  exertion.  The  rebels 
left,  in  this  last  attack,  several  dismounted  pieces  of  artillery, 
many  blown-up  caissons,  and  thousands  of  small  arms,  besides 
a  thousand  unhurt  prisoners  and  a  field  literally  covered  with 
dead  and  wounded.  The  battle  of  Malvern  Hill  was  over, 
though  the  rebel  artillery  continued  to  belch  at  intervals  until 


272  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

after  ton  o'clock  at  night,  the  Federal  advanced  batteries  re- 
plying to  every  fire.  At  length,  and  when  the  still  summer 
night  had  thus  far  fallen  on  the  late  scene  of  conflict,  the  last 
r<hrl  ,<hot  was  sullenly  fired,  the  last  response  was  mad*'  by 
the  Federal  gunners,  and  the  long  conflict  ceased.  The  baffled 
and  beaten  rebels,  who  had  certainly  fought  with  bravery  and 
determination  worthy  of  a  better  cause,  fell  back  behind  the 
sheltering  woods  and  commenced  their  final  retreat  towards 
Richmond,  having  received  at  last  a  satisfactory  taste  of  the 
quality  yet  remaining  in  the  outnumbered,  harrassed,  btrt 
never-discouraged  and  ever-dangerous  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

Owing  to  the  fact  that  this  battle  was  so  largely  an  artillery- 
duel,  as  has  before  been  remarked,  the  opportunities  for  the 
display  or  observation  of  personal  bravery  were  compara- 
tively limited,  and  mostly  confined  to  a  short  period  towards 
the  close  of  the  battle.  That  the  Union  troops  would  have 
shown  the  same  personal  dash  and  daring  throughout,  had 
the  plan  of  the  General  in  command  made  hand-to-hand  fight- 
ing advisable — was  fully  proved  by  the  short  conflict  which 
closed  the  day.  In  that  short  period  occupied  by  the  ad- 
vance of  the  two  wings  and  afterwards  of  the  main  body, 
two  or  three  incidents  occurred,  which  some  of  the  combat- 
ants will  yet  remember  when  their  attention  is  thus  called  to 
them,  and  without  which  this  battle-picture,  necessarily  very 
defective,  and  aiming  much  more  at  truth  than  sensation, 
would  be  found  almost  destitute  of  details. 

In  the  first  advance,  no  less  than  three  color-bearers,  carry- 
ing the  same  flag  of  one  of  the  regiments  of  Meagher's  Irish 
brigade,  were  shot  down  within  less  than  five  minutes.  When 
the  third  fell,  a  Lieutenant  in  the  color-company  of  the  same 
regiment,  who  had  not  many  months  before  deserted  the  mock 
combats  of  the  stage  for  the  sanguinary  fights  of  actual  war- 
fare, concluded  to  try  his  success  at  carrying  the  dangerous 
bunting.  He  seized  the  staff  and  held  it,  himself  untouched, 
for  several  minutes,  while  bullets  were  actually  riddling  the 
flag.  At  the  end  of  that  time  a  stalwart  Irishman,  finding  his 
rifle-barrel  heated  and  the  ramrod  jammed  in  attempting  to 
load,  made  two  or  three  ineffectual  jerks  at  the  rod,  found 
that  it  was  impossible  to  remove  it  ;  then  grasped  the  weapon 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  273 

by  the  muzzle,  whirled  it  half  a  dozen  times  around  his  head, 
bringing  the  butt  down  in  each  instance  with  crushing  force, 
on  the  head  of  a  foe  ;  and  finally,  giving  it  another  and  longer 
whirl,  with  a  wild  "  Whooruh  !"  that  might  have  originated 
among  the  bogs  of  Connaught,  sent  it  whirling  among  the 
enemy  with  such  force  that  it  literally  plowed  its  way  through 
them  and  left  a  perceptible  track  of  fallen  foemcn.  "  Be  the 
Hill  of  Howth  !"  roared  Paddy,  when  he  had  completed  this 
exploit.  "  It's  meself  hasn't  the  bit  of  a  muskit  left  to  fight 
wid  at  all  at  all  !  Here,  Captain  !"  to  the  Lieutenant  holding 
the  flag,  "  it's  meself  should  be  houldin'  that,  and  not  you  !" 
and  at  the  word  he  grasped  the  staff  out  of  the  officer's  hands 
and  plunged  still  farther  forward  among  the  enemy  with  it, 
than  it  had  before  been  carried  by  either  of  the  bearers,  com- 
ing out  of  the  fight  at  last  without  a  scratch. 

At  very  nearly  the  same  time,  and  at  the  point  in  the  rebel 
front  assailed  by  Meagher's  brigade,  another  scene  was  pre- 
sented, perhaps  unexampled  in  the  history  of  war.  A  Georgia 
regiment  (Georgia  has  sent  out  some  of  the  very  best  and  most 
determined  fighters  of  the  whole  rebel  army)  was  in  the  front 
and  immediately  opposed  to  the  jolly  New  York  Irishmen. 
The  evening  being  a  hot  one,  most  of  the  Irish  boys  had  pre- 
pared themselves  for  the  charge  by  throwing  off  knapsacks, 
coats,  and  even  hats,  so  as  to  "fight  asier."  Their  habit  of 
doing  this,  by  the  way,  in  hot  weather. and  in  the  excitement 
of  battle,  has  not  only  cost  the  government  a  round  sum  for 
new  clothing  and  equipments,  but  given  many  opportunities 
to  the  Confederates  for  boasting  of  a  victory  when  they  had 
won  nothing  of  the  kind.  They  have  regarded  the  thrown- 
away  coats  and  knapsacks  as  evidence  of  a  panic  and  a  rout, 
when  the  fact  is  that  they  have  only  evidenced  Paddy's  desire, 
quoted  above,  to  "fight  asy." 

In  the  present  instance,  Capt.  S ,  a  young  Irishman, 

of  Meagher's  Brigade,  a  fire-boy  and  a  gymnast,  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  knot  of  his  fellows,  and  they  were  making  good 
progress  in  driving  back  the  Georgia  regiment,  when  the  Cap- 
tain encountered  the  Major  of  the  Georgians.  Whether 
something  in  the  eye  of  each  defied  the  other,  will  perhaps 
never  be  known  ;  but  certain  it  is  that  Captain  S sprung 


274  a  no  ULDEii-sTJ:  ats 

for  a  single  combat  with  the  Major,  and  that  the  Major,  quite 
as  willing,  sprung  forward  with  a  corresponding  intention.  A 
few  passes  were  made  with  the  sword  by  each,  and  then  both 
seemed  to  forget  the  use  of  the  weapon.  In  half  a  minute 
swords  were  dropped,  and  the  two  combatants  were  clenched, 
pounding  away  with  their  fists!  Something  after  the  manner 
of  the  armies  of  old  time  when  two  great  warriors  met  single- 
handed,  the  combatants  on  both  sides  seemed  to  stand  still  for 
the  moment  and  look  on  at  this  singular  struggle — this  novelty 

in  deadly  war.     Captain  S was  the  heavier  man,  but  the 

Georgia  Major  the  nimbler,  and  they  seemed  very  well  matched 
The  Confederates  were  giving  way  on  either  side,  and  the 
Georgia  regiment  must  necessarily  retreat  decidedly  in  a  mo- 
ment.    The  effort  of  Captain  S accordingly  seemed  to  be 

directed  to  first  "knocking"  the  Major  "out  of  time/'  and 
then  making  a  captive  of  him  ;  while  probably  the  Major  had 
no  fancy  for  that  termination  of  the  affair.  At  length  the 
rush  came  from  behind  and  on  either  side,  and  the  whole 
group  were  irresistibly  borne  backward.  Some  of  the  Ci  • 
soldiers  grasped  the  Major  from  behind,  and  attempted  to 
drag  him  off.  Some  of  the  Irishmen  rushed  forward  to  assist 
in  holding  him.  In  a  minute  more,  not  two  men.  but  dozens, 
were  engaged  in  a  fist-fight,  not  a  weapon  being  used.  Di- 
rectly Captain  S managed   to   get  in  a  blow  under  the 

chin  of  the  Major,  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  gullet,  which 
sent  him  backwards  nearly  insensible.  As  he  fell  he  kicked 
with  mechanical  force,  and  the  kick  striking  the  Captain  in  the 
lower  abdomen,  "  doubled  him  up  "  effectually.  The  Geor- 
gians were  still  laboring  to  save  their  commander  from  cap- 
ture, and  Captain  S and  his. men  to  take  him,  or  as  much 

as  they  could  of  him.  The  finale  was  that  the  Georgia  Major 
was  lugged  off  and  rescued  by  his  men,  and  that  Captain 

S ,  clinging  to  him  with  the  proverbial  Kilkenny  tenacity, 

succeeded  in  dragging  off  him  his  coat,  sword  and  belts,  and 
revolver, — leaving  the  foe  very  much  in  the  condition  of  his 
own  men — that  of  shirt  and  trowsers. 

It  is  a  somewhat  pitiful  conclusion  to  this  little  reminiscence 

of  S 's  odd  adventure,  that  the  next  morning,  in  his  tent, 

showing  the  captured  weapons  to  one  of  his  comrades,  the 


SHU  U  L  DEK-ST  It  APS.  275 

revolver  went  off  accidentally  and  blew  the  Captain's  left  arm 
to  fragments  !  Such  are  the  chances  of  war — a  soldier 
escaping  unhurt  amid  a  very  rain  of  destroying  missiles,  and 
meeting  wounds  and  disablement  from  a  trilling  accident  in  a 
moment  of  fancied  security  ! 

The  third  incident  of  that  clay,  and  still  more  notable  than 
either  of  the  others,  occurred  on  the  left  while  the  incidents 
previously  recorded  were  taking  place  on  the  right  and  in  the-, 
centre.  When  Couch's  division  were  just  advancing  to  the 
attack  and  at  the  very  moment  when  the  conflict  began  to  grow 
cli isi>  and  deadly,  some  of  the  men  in  the  front,  and  the  rebels 
as  well,  witnessed  a  spectacle  equally  startling  and  unexplain- 
able.  A  figure  in  white  burst  suddenly  through  from  the  Union 
rear  to  the  front,  prostrating  a  dozen  men  with  the  irresistible 
rapidity  of  the  movement ;  and  then  it  sprung  into  the  very  thick 
of  the  rebels  and  commenced  its  most  singular  and  primitive  war- 
fare. Of  the  hundreds  who  unavoidably  saw  the  apparition  (for 
apparition  it  certainly  seemed)  not  one  will  ever  forget  it  or 
remember  it  without  a  shudder.  The  figure  was  that  of  a  very 
tall  man,  evidently  of  immense  natural  strength,  with  a  face 
shrunk  to  skeleton  thinness  and  terrible  staring  eyes  rendered 
more  fearful  by  the  heavy  red  beard  and  long  matted  hair.  It 
was  dressed  in  what  appeared  to  be  white  trousers,  but  bare- 
foot ;  and  its  upper  clothing  seemed  to  be  a  shirt  beneath  and 
a  loose  flowing  white  robe  hanging  from  the  shoulders.  In  its 
hand  this  terrible  figure  carried  a  club  of  green  sapling  oak, 
heavily  knotted  at  the  end,  about  five  feet  in  length,  two  inches 
in  diameter  at  the  butt  and  tapering  to  where  it  was  grasped 
at  the  lower  end.  A  more  effective  weapon  in  close  combat 
could  not  be  devised  ;  and  with  this  weapon,  and  with  fierce 
yells  that  seemed  like  those  emanating  from  the  throat  of  an 
infuriate  madman,  this  strange  combatant  began  laying  about 
him  in  the  rebel  ranks,  crushing  heads,  breaking  arms,  and 
killing  and  disabling  scores  of  armed  men.  JSo  sword  could 
reach  him,  and  no  bullet  appeared  to  strike  him,  though  dozens 
of  the  rebels  discharged  muskets  and  even  revolvers  at  him, 
at  close  range,  when  it  began  to  be  apparent  on  which  side  he 
was  fighting.  Up  went  that  mighty  flail,  and  down  it  came 
again  on  the  heads  of  the  human  tares  of  rebeldom  who  so 


276  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

needed  threshing  out  in  the  very  garner  of  wrath.  More  than 
one  of  the  Union  men  in  the  vicinity  of  the  strange  spectacle, 
who  happened  to  have  been  classic  readers  in  other  days, 
gazing  at  the  white  figure  and  its  terrible  prowess,  thought 
of  Castor  and  Pollux  and  the  apparitions  in  white  which  de- 
cided the  battle  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Kegillus,  when  the 
Thirtv  Cities  warred  against  Kome.  But  there  was  nothing 
of  the  supernatural  in  this  figure  ;  for  after  a  few  momenta 
of  wonderful  immunity  in  the  midst  of  that  plunging  fire,  and 
after  a  destruction  of  life  which  seemed  really  wonderful  to  be 
accomplished  by  one  single  man, — fate  withdrew  the  shield 
which  had  been  interposed  before  him.  The  great  club  was 
full  uplifted  in  the  air,  when  the  combatants  saw  him  suddenly 
waver  and  stagger,  then  saw  the  deadly  weapon  drop,  a  stream 
of  spouting  blood  from  the  wounded  breast  gush  over  tin- 
white  garment,  and  that  tall  figure  and  ghastly  faco  sink 
downward  to  the  earth,  one  last  long  yell,  wilder  and  more 
fearful  than  any  that  had  preceded  it,  sounding  the  signal  of 
his  death,  and  the  battle  again  going  on  over  the  trampled 
body. 

It  was  not  until  hours  after  that  the  mystery  of  the  white 
figure  was  fully  explained.  The  poor  fellow  had  been  a  sol- 
dier of  one  of  the  Western  regiments,  ill  with  fever,  and  sent  on 
to  Harrison's  Landing  with  the  first  of  the  troops  who  reached 
the  James.  In  his  delirium  he  had  no  doubt  heard  the  boom- 
ing of  the  cannon  in  the  morning  attack,  and  gathered  the  im- 
pression that  a  battle  must  be  going  on  and  that  he  should 
not  be  absent.  He  had  managed,  by  some  means,  to  elude  the 
guards  and  the  few  hospital  nurses  yet  spared  to  the  army  ; 
had  escaped  from  the  temporary  hospital,  barefoot  and  clothed 
only  in  his  white  drawers,  shirt,  and  a  sheet  thrown  around 
his  shoulders  ;  had  made  his  way,  unseen,  through  the  woods 
and  over  the  marshes  lying  between  Harrison's  Landing  and 
Malvern;  had  provided  himself  probably  by  means  of  his  still 
remaining  jack-knife,  with  that  singular  but  fatal  weapon  of 
offence  ;  and  then,  nerved  with  fictitious  strength  by  his  fever 
and  the  sights  and  sounds  of  battle  raging  before  him,  he  had 
rushed  into  the  conflict  as  before  described,  dying  a  death  more 
noble  than  the  lingering  decay  of  fever,  after  working  such  de- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  277 

struction  among  the  rebel  ranks  as  he  might  never  have  been 
able  to  do  in  the  pride  of  his  health  and  manhood. 

And  here  this  extended  picture  of  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant battles  ever  yet  fought  on  this  continent,  must  close, 
except  so  far  as  in  side-issues  connected  with  it  may  happen 
to  be  involved  some  of  the  persons  more  intimately  concerned 
in  the  progress  of  this  relation. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

John  Crawford  the  Zouave,  and  Bob  Webster,  ditto — 
Bush-fighting,  with  various  Results — The  Burning 
iiouse  and  a  strange  death-scene — john  crawford 
becomes  a  Man  of  Family. 

It  has  not  yet  been  our  fortune  to  happen  upon  John 
Crawford  the  Zouave,  in  the  search  for  whom  we  have  stum- 
bled upon  Malvern  Hill  and  its  fearful  panorama  of  blood- 
shed. As  a  member  of  the  Advance  Guard,  he  was  not 
likely  to  be  absent  from  the  fierce  charge  made  by  his  corps 
at  the  close  of  that  day  ;  and  he  was  not.  It  is  at  the  very 
moment  of  the  conclusion  of  that  charge,  that  the  quest  be- 
comes successful. 

John  Crawford  participated  in  that  general  advance,  in  the 
front  rank  of  the  Zouaves,  in  high  health  and  spirits,  and 
yelling  quite  as  loudly  and  discordantly  as  any  of  his  com- 
panions. This  was  not  his  first  adventure  with  the  bayonet, 
for  he  had  gone  unwounded  through  the  determined  charges 
of  his  corps,  with  the  same  deadly  weapon,  at  Williamsburgh 
and  Fair  Oaks ;  and  he  had  grown  to  have  confidence  in 
himself  and  in  any  body  of  men  that  used  the  modern  foot- 
man's lance  with  the  due  ferocity.  Though  five  years  younger 
than  his  brother  Richard,  John  Crawford  looked  older  than 
he  did  even  in  his  sickness  ;  for  the  exposures  of  a  year  had 
browned  his  round  and  ruddy  face,  if  it  had  not  dimmed  the 


278  BHO  U  LD* B-STB  A  P 8. 

brightness  of  his  blue  eye ;  and  the  heavy  waved  brown 
hair  and  moustache  in  which  he  retained  so  prominent  a 
characteristic  of  his  Gaelic  ancestry  of  a  hundred  years  be- 
fore, added  materially  to  the  appearance  of  manly  maturity. 
Were  it  a  preux  chevalier  sitting  under  this  verbal  lens  for 
his  photograph,  there  might  be  difficulty  in  proceeding  far- 
ther in  this  description  ;  for  though  your  knight  of  old  seems 
to  have  been  splendidly  oblivious  as  to  the  needs  of  clean  linen, 
and  able  to  wear  one  surcoat  and  one  suit  of  armor  for  any 
length  of  time  without  becoming  repugnant  to  the  nose  of 
his  lady  when  brought  into  the  opportunity  for  an  embrace, 
— yet  the  heroes  of  this  day  have  sore  need  of  occasional  aid 
from  the  washerwoman,  and  even  the  tailor  becomes  neces- 
sary for  the  replenishing  of  worn-out  and  faded  garments. 
John  Crawford  the  Zouave — the  truth  must  be  told — though 
he  showed  very  little  shirt,  showed  that  little  in  an  unclean 
condition ;  and  the  baggy  red  of  his  trousers  and  the  hang- 
ing blue  of  his  jacket,  both  looked  shabby  and  discolored. 
Kot  much  more  could  be  said  in  favor  of  the  white  ami  yellow- 
turban  with  the  dirty  white  tassel  hanging  behind,  ostensibly 
worn  on  his  head  but  really  drooping  on  the  back  part  of  it, 
quite  as  much  as  were  the  ladies'  bonnets  two  or  three  years 
ago  when  the  suggestion  was  made  that  they  "should  be 
carried  behind  them  in  a  spoon."  And  yet  this  soiled  and 
uncombed  man  was  a  soldier — every  inch  a  soldier — and  had 
in  him  all  the  materials  for  the  making  of  a  hero. 

We  have  said  that  John  Crawford  was  in  good  health  and 
spirits,  after  sharing  with  the  army  in  all  its  battles,  fatigues 
and  privations.  He  was  so,  not  alone  because  the  corps  was 
somewhat  better  managed  and  cared  for  than  many  of  the 
others,  but  because  he  was  a  sober  man  and  one  physically 
well-educated.  He  did  not  heat  his  blood  for  fever,  and  de- 
bilitate his  system  for  exposure,  by  the  use  of  liquor  when- 
ever he  could  reach  it ;  and  having  been  a  member  of  the 
Seventh  before  he  joined  the  Zouaves,  and  a  habitue  of  the 
Gymnasium  so  much  affected  by  the  members  of  that  regi- 
ment, he  had  acquired  some  capacity  of  bearing  fatigue  before 
entering  upon  that  soldier-life  which  of  all  demands  the  most 
unrelaxing  endurance. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  279 

A  picture  very  little  different  from  that  just  presented, 
though  taller  and  lanker  in  figure,  was  to  be  found  in  Bob 
Webster,  John  Crawford's  comrade  and  file-closer,  who  went 
into  the  charge  that  evening  at  his  side.  A  little  less  hardy, 
more  of  a  giant  in  strength,  and  with  a  ruddy  tinge  on  the 
end  of  his  long  nose,  that  had  been  acquired  by  more  years 
and  more  whiskey  than  confessed  to  by  Crawford — such  was 
the  only  difference  observable  in  the  two  men  of  the  dirty 
white  turbans  and  the  discolored  uniforms,  who  went  into 
battle  together. 

The  point  of  the  enemy's  front  at  which  the  Zouaves  struck 
in  the  charge,  was  considerably  to  the  right  of  the  Union 
Centre  (the  enemy's  left)  and  very  near  to  the  edge  of  the 
wood  bounding  Carter's  Field  on  the  North.  The  company 
to  which  the  two  comrades  belonged  had  the  extreme  right, 
(the  post  of  honor),  and  they  were  consequently,  when  the 
charge  had  penetrated  so  far  that  the  rebels  began  to  give 
way,  almost  in  the  edge  of  the  woods.  Some  of  the  men  in 
a  South  Carolina  regiment,  the  enemy's  extreme  left,  seemed 
to  fight  like  fiends,  supported  by  a  battery  of  the  same  State 
that  it  became  necessary  to  capture.  This  was  finally  swept, 
and  the  South  Carolinians  at  last  gave  way,  falling  back  into 
the  woods,  now  beginning  to  grow  dark,  but  firing  from 
behind  trees  as  they  retired.  Too  much  excited  to  heed  the 
recall  just  then  sounded,  a  dozen  or  two  of  the  Zouaves, 
remembering  their  unexpended  ammunition,  tried  their  hand 
for  the  time  at  bush-fighting,  with  more  or  less  success. 
Some  of  them  were  shot  down,  but  others  succeeded  in  kill- 
ing or  capturing  the  peculiar  fugitives  of  whom  they  started 
in  chase.  Crawford  and  Webster  had  so  far  succeeded  in 
keeping  together,  and  neither  had  received  even  a  scratch. 

One  of  the  rebels,  conspicuous  by  the  fact  that  he  had  lost 
or  thrown  off  his  coat  and  was  consequently  in  "  Irish  uni- 
form/' had  been  especially  followed  by  half  a  dozen  of  the 
Zouaves,  as  he  fell  back  farther  and  farther  into  the  woods, 
dodging  and  firing  from  behind  trees,  and  proving  that  he 
must  have  come  from  one  of  the  hill  regions  of  the  Palmetto 
State,  where  the  hunting  of  wild  beasts  yet  keeps  the  wood- 
man   in    train   for   a   soldier.     Not   less   than    three  of  tho 


280  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Zouaves  had  paid  for  their  tenacity  with  their  lives,  by  shots 
sent  from  that  single  long-rifle.  Crawford  and  Webster, 
fancying  that  they  bore  charmed  lives,  still  kept  on  the  chase, 
catching  glimpses  through  the  dusk,  of  the  rebel's  shirt,  as  it 
dodged  in  and  out  behind  the  trees.  In  this  manner  they 
had  penetrated  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  into  the  woods, 
the  sounds  of  the  battle  growing  more  and  more  indistinct 
behind  them,  when  a  broad  light  burst  up  through  the  trees 
to  the  North,  shining  redly  through  boles  and  branches  and 
indicating  a  fire  in  the  immediate  neighborhood. 

"What  is  that?"  said  Webster,  his  attention  momentarily 
distracted  from  the  rebel  whom  he  had  seen  dodging  behind 
a  tree  but  a  moment  before. 

"A  fire  of  some  kind,"  said  Crawford,  looking  in  the  same 
direction      "  From  its  size,  it  may  be  a  burning  house." 

"Humph!  though  it  is  hot  enough  without,  I  shouldn't 
mind  being  at  one  more  fire  !"  said  Webster,  who,  like  most 
New  Yorkers  of  a  certain  age,  had  once  in  his  time  "  run 
wid  der  masheen." 

"But  where  is  that  gentleman  from  the  South?"  asked 
Crawford.     "  He  may  give  us  a  pop  directly — look  out  !*' 

"  The  no-coated  devil !"  said  Webster.  "  He  was  dodging 
behind  that  big  oak  a  moment  ago.  I  think  I  see  the  edge 
of  his  shirt — yes  !" 

He  did  see  the  tip  of  the  Southerner's  shirt,  and  some  one 
else  felt  him  ;  for  at  that  instant  "  crack  !"  went  the  long 
rifle,  and  John  Crawford  gave  vent  to  an  "Ough  !"  that  par- 
took of  the  mingled  characters  of  an  oath  and  a  yell,  staggering 
up  against  the  nearest  tree  at  the  same  moment,  with  a  rifle- 
bullet  through  his  left  fore-arm,  and  feeling  that  sentiment  of 
disgust  at  the  stomach  which  is  inseparable  from  the  forcible 
entrance  of  any  substance  into  the  human  body,  in  the  shape 
of  a  wound. 

"  Hallo,  Jack  !  Eh,  you  did  it,  did  you  ?— d— n  you  !" 
sputtered  Webster,  as  he  heard  the  report  and  saw  the  effect. 
Of  course  the  first  part  of  his  remark  was  addressed  to  his 
comrade,  and  the  last  to  the  rebel,  who  had  made  such  a  capi- 
tal shot  that  he  allowed  too  much  of  his  figure  to  be  exposed 
while  making  his   survey.     In  an   instant,  Webster's  piece 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  281 

was  drawn  up,  and  a  second  " crack!"  rang  out  through  the 
trees. 

"  Ten  to  one  I  hit  him  !"  cried  Webster.  "  For  the  first 
time  I  got  a  fair  view  of  one  side  of  his  dirty  white  shirt. 
But  how  badly  are  you  hurt,  Jack  ?     Where  are%you  hit  V 

"  Hurt  a  good  deal,  but  not  seriously,  I  think,"  answered 
Crawford,  a  little  faintly.  "  He  hit  me  here  in  the  left  arm, 
below  the  elbow.  I  think  the  bullet  went  through,  and  may- 
be the  bone  is  broken." 

"  Too  bad  !  tut !  tut !"  said  his  brother  Zouave.  "  Never 
mind — I  will  bind  it  up  in  a  moment.  Do  you  think  you  can 
lean  against  that  tree  and  keep  from  fainting  until  I  run  and 
see  whether  my  little  joker  went  in  the  right  direction  ?" 

"  Nary  faint !"  said  Crawford,  making  a  strong  effort  to 
overcome  the  pain  he  was  suffering.  "  Go  ahead,  Bob,  and 
hurry  !" 

Webster  did  hurry,  and  Crawford  had  scarcely  more  than 
time  to  enjoy  half-a-dozen  exquisite  throbs  of  agony  and  ob- 
serve that  the  light  through  the  trees,  Northward,  was  grow- 
ing brighter  and  brighter,  when  he  came  running  back,  very 
jubilant. 

"  Dead  as  the  deadest  kind  of  a  herring !"  he  said.  "  Didn't 
hit  him  where  I  meant  to,  but  it  answered.  Bored  him  right 
through  the  skull,  and  he  lies  there,  hugging  the  root  of  the 
tree  he  was  so  fond  of." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  of  that,  at  all  events  !"  answered  Craw- 
ford. Men,  even  of  the  best  hearts  and  warmest  natures, 
change  terribly  in  times  of  war  and  among  the  influences  of 
the  camp  and  the  battle-field.  The  man  who  by  nature  could 
only  have  said  "Thank  God!"  at  some  benefit  rendered  to 
his  kind  or  some  dispensation  of  Providence  by  which  the 
lives  of  his  perilled  fellow-men  have  been  preserved — easily 
learns  to  be  thankful  for  the  explosion  of  a  magazine  or  the 
sinking  of  a  ship  by  which  hundreds  of  men  have  been  sent 
suddenly  into  eternity,  those  men  being  his  enemies. 

"  But  come — let  us  see  what  kind  of  a  nick  you  have  got !" 
said  Webster,  examining  the  arm  with  some  skill  once  ac- 
quired in  a  doctor's  shop  to  which  run-over  and  fainted  peo- 
ple were  sometimes  brought  for  sudden  assistance.     "  Nq, 


282  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  bones  are  not  broken — all  right !  Here,  let  me  bind  it 
up  with  my  handkerchief  and  put  my  scarf-belt  around  your 
neck  for  a  sling."  He  proceeded  to  mak*-  these  dispositions, 
with  speed  and  dexterity,  and  in  a  moment  after  Crawford 
felt  the  sickening  pain  subsiding  and  the  slight  faintness 
leaving  him. 

"  Humph  !  that  is  better — it  scarcely  hurts  at  all  now/' 
he  said.  "  Thank  you,  Bob — or  Doctor  Bob,  I  ought  to  call 
you." 

"  Well,  call  me  anything  you  like,  except  a  coward  or  a 
humbug  !"  answered  Webster.  "And  now,  old  fellow,  think 
\<>u  are  strong  enough  to  get  back  to  the  Hill  ?" 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  not  going  there  !"  said  John  Crawford. 
11  Don't  you  see  how  bright  that  fire  through  the  trees  is 
getting  ?  In  this  hot  weather  nobody  builds  a  camp-fire  of 
that  size,  and  I  think  there  must  be  a  house  burning.  If  you 
say  so,  we  will  take  a  tour  in  that  direction.'' 

"  Anywhere  with  you"  said  Webster.  "But,"  he  added, 
careful  for  his  wounded  companion  though  not  for  himself, 
"  suppose  it  should  be  a  burning  house,  with  rebels  around, 
and  you  with  your  lame  arm." 

"  Oh,  Bob,  we'll  take  the  chances,"  said  the  wounded 
Zouave.  "  My  impression  is  that  they  have  had  enough  of 
Little  Mac  for  one  day,  and  got  out  of  this,  and  that  you 
killed  about  the  last  one  of  them.  At  all  events,  we'll  take 
the  chances — come  on  !" 

Bob  Webster  had  been  in  the  habit  of  following  his  file- 
leader,  and  he  did  so  in  this  instance.  The  two  struck  across 
the  woods  in  the  direction  of  the  fire,  their  path  through  the 
trees  and  under-growth  being  made  an  easy  one  by  the  light 
it  cast.  A  few  hundred  yards  brought  them  to  the  edge  of 
the  wood,  at  a  narrow  place  where  a  spur  of  the  Malvern 
Hill  made  a  sudden  curve  Southward  and  broke  into  the  tim- 
ber. As  they  approached  the  edge  of  the  clear  space,  they 
yaw  that  a  house  was  indeed  ou  fire,  the  flames  now  licking 
through  the  roof  and  enveloping  the  chimneys,  while  all  the 
lower  portion  seemed  burned  to  a-  shell.  The  house,  which 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  appeared  to  have  been  of  fair 
size,  and  surrounded  on  three  sides  with  carefullv  cultivated 


SHOU  L  D  E  R  -ST  R  A  P  S.  283 

grounds,  now  marred  and  desolated  alike  by  the  foot  of  the 
invader  and  the  defender. 

Climbing  a  broken  fence  that  lay  between  the  wood  and  the 
cultivated  ground,  the  two  soldiers  drew  nearer  to  the  burning 
house,  which  strangely  enough  showed  no  person  moving 
around  the  flames,  and  no  indication  that  it  was  not  burning 
in  utter  loneliness.  Such  things  as  traps  and  decoys  had 
been  heard  of  by  the  comrades,  however,  as  they  had  been 
heard  of  by  every  soldier  subjected  to  the  tricks  of  the  Con- 
federates ;  and  they  were  not  too  certain  that  enemies  might 
n  ut  lie  concealed  in  the  neighborhood,  waiting  to  pick  off  any 
Union  soldier  discerned  in  the  light  of  the  fire.  On  this  ac- 
count, Webster,  who  had  re-loaded  his  rifle,  carried  it  ready 
for  instant  use,  while  Crawford  carried  his  in  the  unwounded 
hand,  at  half-cock,  and  ready  to  make  some  kind  of  an  attempt, 
in  the  event  of  danger,  to  use  it  as  a  pistol.  These  precau- 
tions seemed  to  be  all  superfluous,  for  as  they  came  still 
nearer  to  the  burning  house,  now  almost  ready  to  fall  into  a 
heap  of  blazing  and  smouldering  ruins,  no  voice  was  heard 
and  no  sign  of  life  was  visible. 

"  Nobody  there,"  said  Webster. 

"  Nobody  living,  at  least,  in  or  about  that  shanty  !"  was 
the  reply  of  Crawford.  "  The  people  are  either  burned,  saved, 
or  there  have  been  none  there." 

"  One  of  the  three— yes— I  should  say  so  !"  replied  Webster 
to  this  self-evident  proposition. 

"And  as  there  seems  nothing  to  be  done,  in  the  way  of 
putting  out  the  fire,  saving  anybody  or  killing  anybody,  sup- 
pose we  go  back  to  the  Hill  ?"  said  Crawford. 

"Xot  yet,"  answered  Webster.  "We  have  not  yet  been 
on  the  other  side  of  the  house.  Perhaps  there  may  be  out- 
buildings on  that  side,  that  have  not  yet  taken  fire  ;  and  it 
there  is  no  one  living  in  the  house,  there  may  be  cattle  or  hogs 
roasting  in  the  enclosures." 

"  Very  well  said,  Bob,"  said  Crawford.  "Let  us  see  the 
other  side  of  the  house."  And  the  two  soldiers  advanced  as 
near  as  was  comfortable  to  the  blazing  building,  for  that  pur- 
pose. It  had  not  yet  fallen,  though  every  board  had  dropped 
away,  and  everv  timber  was  a  thin  line  of  fire,  fast  charring 
18 


281  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

to  coals.  The  house  had  evidently  been  that  of  a  person  of 
some  condition,  though  of  perhaps  no  remarkable  wealth.  It 
had  been  of  two  stories,  with  a  piazza  in  front  and  a  neat  lit- 
tle yard  showing  a  few  flower-shrubs,  a  bordering  of  fruit- 
trees  at  the  sides  of  the  enclosure,  and  two  medium-sized 
Lombardy  poplar  trees  at  the  gate.  No  negro-quarter  was 
visible,  or  any  evidence  that  the  "peculiar  institution  "  had 
formed  any  part  of  the  domestic  policy  of  the  occupants. 

Just  as  the  companions  approached  the  gate  and  stood  ob- 
serving these  particulars,  the  demon  of  fire  obtained  his  last 
triumph  over  the  material  of  the  building.  The  snapping 
and  crackling  of  the  flames  increased  for  a  moment,  and  the 
forked  tongues  seemed  licking  closer  and  closer  around  the 
(loomed  pile ;  then  there  was  a  sudden  change — the  arched 
rafters  sunk  away — the  slight  shock  disturbed  what  had  yet 
remained  of  the  frame-work — and  the  instant  after,  with  a 
loud  rumbling  crash,  the  whole  building  went  down  into  a 
heap  of  ruins,  one  high  burst  of  flame  shooting  up  skyward  as 
a  signal  that  the  destruction  had  been  accomplished,  and 
showers  of  sparks  following  it,  like  a  burst  of  fire-works  at 
some  grand  celebration.  With  the  fall,  the  broad  light  of  the 
fire  over  the  surrounding  fields  and  on  the  neighboring  woods 
died  away,  and  there  only  remained  a  great  heap  of  burning 
timbers,  smouldering  coals  and  embers,  giving  scarcely  more 
light  than  an  ordinary  watch-fire. 

But  the  peculiar  interest  of  that  scene  did  not  die  out  with 
the  fall  of  the  building :  on  the  contrary,  it  was  at  that  mo- 
ment that  it  began  to  assume  proportions  more  easily  recog- 
nized. For  mingled  with  the  crash  of  the  fall  there  seemed 
to  be  the  sharp,  shrill,  terrible  scream  of  a  human  voice  in 
agony  ;  and  the  very  instant  after  that  scream  was  repeated, 
so  distinctly  that  it  drove  the  blood  from  the  cheeks  of  both 
the  soldiers  at  the  gate. 

"  My  God  !  did  you  hear  that  ?"  said  Crawford. 

"  Didn't  I !"  answered  Webster.  "  I  wish  I  hadn't !  Jack, 
do  you  know,  there  must  have  been  somebody  in  the  house 
after  all,  burning  to  death  ;  and  that  scream,  when  the  build- 
ing fell,  was  the  wind-up  of  a  life  !" 

11  It  must  have  been  so,  and  we  have  been  standing  here, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  285 

doing  nothing,  when  aid  might  have  been  given  !"  said  Craw- 
ford, in  self-reproach,  and  forgetting  how  little  a  man  with 
one  arm  can  do  in  the  way  of  carrying  out  people  from  a 
burning  building.  "  Yet  no — stop  !  No,  Bob,  that  scream 
was  not  the  last  of  the  person's  life,  for  didn't  you  notice,  we 
heard  it  twice,  and  the  last  time  after  the  house  had  fallen  in  ? 
AfteT  that  house  fell,  no  one  inside  of  it  ever  screamed,  and 
so—" 

"  And  so,"  said  Webster,  interrupting,  "  there  is  somebody, 
not  in  the  house,  who  screamed  ?  That  is  what  you  mean, 
and  by  Jupiter,  Jack,  you  are  right !" 

"Now  we  must  look  the  other  side  of  the  house,"  said 
Crawford.  "  Some  poor  creature,  badly  burned,  may  have 
crawled  out  from  the  flames  and  be  lying  there  in  agony." 

So  there  might  have  been,  truly  I  And  what  a  strange 
riddle  is  human  nature,  even  on  that  other  side — mercy !  We 
but  a  little  while  ago  considered  the  ease  with  which  a  man 
born  with  the  warmest  aspirations  for  human  good,  might  be- 
come eager  for  the  destruction  of  life,  when  that  life  belonged 
to  a  foeman  :  let  the  opposite  spectacle  be  considered,  of  a 
man  who  had  just  been  plunging  into  the  thick  of  a  hand-to- 
hand  fight,  estimating  human  heads  as  of  no  more  value  than 
cocoa-nuts,  and  human  lives  as  something  to  be  taken  without 
a  shudder  or  a  pang  of  compunction, — a  few  minutes  after- 
wards speaking  of  a  "  poor  creature  "  whose  life  might  be 
threatened  by  fire,  and  speaking  of  that  "  poor  creature  "  with 
all  the  tenderness  of  a  mother  or  a  lover  !  And  is  this  in- 
consistent? No — it  is  consistent  to  the  last  degree.  The 
brave  man  is  the  pitiful  man  ;  and  while  he  may  consider  a 
hecatomb  necessary  for  a  cause,  he  regards  one  life  sacrificed 
unnecessarily,  as  murder.  "  Who  needlessly  sets  foot  upon  a 
worm,  is  all  unfit  to  live  !"  says  one  of  the  old  poet-philoso- 
phers. And  are  worms  therefore  never  to  be  trodden  upon  ? 
Not  so,  by  any  means  1  The  adverbial  adjective  "needlessly" 
explains  the  broad  distinction.  Not  one  worm,  even  the 
creeping,  crawling  and  disgusting  caterpillar,  for  cruelty  or 
even  for  neglect :  millions  of  worms,  whether  caterpillar  or 
human  worm  of  the  dust,  for  a  sacred  cause  and  a  great 
duty  I 


286  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"Yes,  come  on  around  the  house.  The  heat  is  not  so  great 
now,  and  we  mtist  see  if  there  is  anything  living  here,"  was 
the  rep]}' of  Webster  to  the  last  suggestion  of  Crawford  ;  and 
they  at  once  followed  the  yard  as  closely  round  as  the  burn- 
ing ruins  would  permit.  They  heard  no  repetition  of  the 
sound  ;  nor  could  they  see  any  sign  of  human  life.  Behind 
the  house,  hillward,  stood  a  small  barn  and  stables,  while  a 
wood-shed  and  some  other  small  outbuildings  stood  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  enclosure.  These  had  been  nearly  con- 
nected with  the  house  by  board  fences,  and  in  two  places 
those  fences  had  taken  fire  and  threatened  to  carry  the  flames 
to  the  other  buildings.  But  the  evening  had  been  calm,  and 
the  fire  had  not  run  many  yards  along  the  fences  before  it 
became  extinguished  for  want  of  compelling  wind  and  quick 
fuel. 

A  proposition  from  Webster  that  they  should  search  the 
outbuildings  for  the  source  of  the  cry,  was  negatived  by 
Crawford,  who  thought  it  very  likely,  after  all  his  previous 
confidence,  that  some  of  the  Confederate  troops,  who  had 
certainly  held  the  woods  at  one  time  during  the  day,  might 
be  located  in  the  barn — not  dangerous,  perhaps,  if  undis- 
turbed, but  very  likely  to  be  troublesome  if  two  soldiers,  one 
with  one  arm  and  both  on  a  very  blind  errand,  should  go 
stumbling  about  in  the  dark  too  miscellaneously. 

"Well/'  said  Webster,  "no  doubt  you  are  right,  Jack,  as 
you  almost  always  are.  In  that  case  we  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  get  back  to  camp  and  look  a  little  more  closely  after 
that  shivered  arm  of  yours,  for  there  is  certainly  no  one  near 
the  edge  of  the  fire." 

"Hark!"  said  Crawford,  as  they  started  to  retrace  their 
steps  around  the  house,  and  move  away.  They  were  within 
a  few  steps  of  what  appeared  to  be  a  wood-shed,  standing  on 
the  east  side  of  the  enclosure,  and  some  forty  or  fifty  feet  from 
the  house.     "  Hark  !" 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  I  heard  nothing  !"  said  Webster,  who 
had  been  listening  exclusively  for  another  shriek. 

'•  "Well,  /  heard  something,  and  it  was  a  groan  !"  said  Craw- 
ford. 

"  Oh    Lord  !"    exclaimed   the    not-verv-rcverent  Webster. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  287 

M  What  next,  I  wonder  ?  Awhile  ago  we  had  shrieks  :  now 
we  have  groans  !  I  wonder  if  this  place  is  haunted — just  a 
little  ?" 

"Hark  I  there  it  was  again!"  said  Crawford.  "  It  was  a 
groan,  and  not  very  far  from  us,  either !" 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Webster,  "  as  it  is  incumbent  upon  two 
members  of  the  Advance  Guard  not  to  come  all  this  distance 
for  nothing,  we  shall  be  under  the  necessity  of  hunting  out  the 
groan.  Ah!"  and  the  speaker  paused  a  moment.  "By  Ju- 
piter it  is  a  groan.  I  heard  it  myself  that  time.  It  is  here, 
under  this  shed  !" 

The  long  legs  of  Webster  at  once  made  a  movement  in  that 
direction,  followed  by  the  shorter  and  more  symmetrical  ones 
of  Crawford.  They  reached  the  door  of  the  wood-house,  open- 
ing towards  the  burned  mansion.  The  door  was  unclosed,  and 
they  could  look  within.  Just  as  they  reached  the  door  both 
heard  another  groan — quite  sufficient  to  satisfy  them  that  they 
were  not  in  error  as  to  the  place  from  which  the  sound  had 
proceeded.  A  faint  red  light  from  the  fallen  embers  of  the 
burning  house  shone  within  the  rough  shed  from  the  narrow 
door — scarce  enough,  at  first,  to  make  objects  distinctly  visible ; 
but  as  the}'  gazed  the  eyes  grew  accustomed  to  the  dim  light 
and  they  could  distinctly  trace  what  the  building  contained. 
They  stepped  slowly  within,  no  motion  from  the  occupants 
giving  indication  that  their  presence  was  known ;  and  this  is 
what  they  saw — dimly,  but  clearly  enough  for  the  purposes 
of  recognition. 

On  a  straw  pallet  lay  an  old  man,  thin-faced  and  hollow- 
eyed,  his  scanty  white  hair  streaming  backward  on  the  end 
of  the  pallet,  which  had  been  turned  up  to  form  a  pillow. 
Over  him  and  reaching  from  his  feet  to  his  breast,  was  drawn 
a  sheet,  and  on  that  sheet  lay  one  of  his  thin,  wrinkled  and 
nerveless  hands.  His  eyes  were  shut,  and  he  might  have 
appeared  to  be  asleep,  but  that  ever  and  anon  there  broke 
from  him  one  of  those  low  but  distinct  groans  indicative  of 
severe  inward  pain,  which  had  startled  the  two  Zouaves. 
But  the  old  man  was  not  the  most  singular  or  the  most  pain- 
ful feature  of  this  spectacle.  Beside  him  on  the  ground, 
kneeling,  and  rocking  backward  and  forward  with  that  pecu- 


288  SHOU  L  EER-  STRAPS. 

culiar  motion  so  indicative  of  intense  and  hopeless  grief  when 
used  by  some  of  the  European  peasantry,  was  a  young  girl — 
apparently  very  young,  very  small  and  very  girlish,  though 
there  was  something  about  her  which  even  in  that  dim  light 
gave  the  impression  that  she  was  not  a  little  girl,  but  a 
woman. 

So  much  the  two  soldiers  saw,  while  neither  of  the  occupants 
of  the  shed  seemed  to  be  aware  of  their  presence  ;  but  Web- 
ster, an  intensely  practical  man  and  more  fertile  in  resources 
than  overflowing  with  delicacy,  was  not  quite  satisfied  with 
the  view  obtained,  and  instantly  determined  to  improve  it. 

"Wait  here — I  am  going  for  a  light."  he  .said,  and  stepping 
hastily  from  the  door  he  ran  to  the  burning  embers  of  the 
house,  caught  the  end  of  a  piece  of  pine  scantling  of  which 
the  other  was  in  full  blaze,  and  in  a  moment  more  entered  the 
door  of  the  shed,  his  novel  torch  throwing  an  odd,  ghastly 
light  upon  all  the  objects  within  the  little  building.  Then 
and  not  till  then  did  the  intruders  become  aware  that  they 
stood  face  to  face  with  one  who  was  dying,  in  the  old  man 
on  the  pallet, — and  with  a  woman  of  a  rare  and  almost 
startling  order  of  beauty,  in  the  young  girl  who  knelt  be- 
side him.  Her  form,  as  they  could  see,  even  in  her  kneel- 
ing position,  was  almost  childish  in  the  shortness  of  its 
stature  and  the  petite  mould  of  her  limbs;  and  yet  there 
was  nothing  thin  _qr  attenuated  about  her,  and  the  epi- 
thet "fragile"  could  not  have  been  applied  to  her  with 
half  the  justice  of  that  very  opposite  word,  "  willowy."  Her 
face  was  infantile  in  the  smallness  of  the  features,  in  their 
perfect  round,  and  in  the  expression  of  helpless  placidity 
which  seemed  to  lie  upon  it.  But  those  features  were  yet 
classical  in  outline,  and  the  mouth,  especially,  was  very  sweet 
and  budding.  The  open  eyes  were  blue  as  heaven  ;  and  the 
hair,  of  which  there  was  a  great  wealth,  loosed  from  all  re- 
straint and  sweeping  back  on  her  shoulders,  was  of  that  deli- 
cate and  almost  impalpable  blonde  so  seldom  met  (even  among 
the  English,  who  arrogate  to  themselves  the  purest  blonde  hair 
in  the  world)  and  so  universally  admired — nay,  almost  wor- 
shipped. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  so  long  a  time  was  necessary 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  289 

for  the  two  Zouaves  to  catch  the  particulars  here  set  down,  as 
would  be  indicated  by  the  length  of  the  description  itself;  and 
certainly  no  such  length  of  time  was  allowed  them  without  in- 
terruption. It  was  now  evident  that  neither  the  dying  man 
nor  the  young  girl  had  before  been  aware  of  the  entrance  of 
the  strangers  ;  but  as  Webster  entered  with  his  torch  of  pine, 
the  sudden  light  startled  both.  The  old  man's  eyes  did  not 
unclose,  but  the  young  girl's  looked  around  with  a  startled 
glance ;  she  rose  to  her  feet,  clasped  her  hands  imploringly, 
while  so  sad  and  beseeching  an  expression  rested  upon  her 
face,  that  she  might  have  been  the  discarded  Peri  pleading  for 
her  lost  place  in  heaven, — and  said  : 

"  Go  away,  please  !  Grandfather  is  dying.  Don't  disturb 
him — please  don't !" 

"  My  poor  girl,  we  do  not  mean  to  disturb  him,  or  you," 
said  Crawford,  advancing  a  little  way  towards  the  side  of  the 
pallet,  and  throwing  into  his  voice  all  its  native  sympathy  and 
kindness.     "We  are  friends." 

"  Marion,  who  is  that  ?"  asked  the  old  man,  feebly.  He 
had  before  shown  that  his  eyes  were  affected  by  the  light,  and 
made  a  motion  to  rise,  which  brought  the  young  girl  at  once 
to  her  knees  again  beside  him,  with  her  hand  and  arm  affec- 
tionately round  his  head. 

"I  do  not  know,  grandpa  !  They  are  soldiers — two  sol- 
diers." 

"  Tell  them  to  go  away — ask  them  to  go  away,  and  let  me 
die  in  peace  !"  said  the  old  man,  his  voice  still  feeble,  and  his 
utterance  difficult  as  before. 

"  I  have  asked  them,  grandpa,  and  they  will  not  go,"  said 
the  young  girl,  her  tones,  strangely  enough,  even  in  character- 
izing what  she  must  have  felt  to  be  an  outrage,  expressing  no 
feeling  of  anger,  but  soft  and  low  as  flute  notes  of  the  lower 
register. 

"  We  do  not  wish  to  intrude.  We  will  go  away,"  said 
Crawford. 

"Ah  !"  said  the  old  man,  a  perceptible  shadow  passing  over 
his  face,  "that  was  the  voice  of  a  gentleman/  Ask  him  who 
he  is,  Marion.  But  he  must  be  a  rebel,"  and  the  old  man 
went  on,  his  voice  falling  still  lower  as  if  he  was  speaking  to 


290  SHOUL  DER-STKAPS. 

himself.  "  He  must  be  a  rebel,  for  McClellan  has  been  beaten 
and  driven  back.  They  have  been  fighting  all  day,  and  I 
know  the  end — I  know  the  end." 

"  "We  are  not  rebels,"  said  Crawford,  who  had  caught  the 
last  words,  whether  intended  or  not  even  for  the  grand- 
daughter's ear.  "  I  hope  you  will  not  fear  u.<.  I  am  John 
Crawford,  private  in  Duryea's  Zouaves,  of  McClellan's  army  ; 
and  this  is  Robert  Webster,  private  in  the  same  regiment," 

"Union  men?  Men  faithful  to  the  country  and  the  old 
flag  ?"  asked  the  old  man,  a  gleam  of  delight  passing  over  his 
wasted  features.     "  Here,  quick,  quick,  Marion,  raise  me  up." 

The  young  girl  tried  to  obey,  but  her  scant  strength  was 
insufficient  even  to  raise  the  thin  form  of  the  old  man.  Robert 
Webster  stepped  forward  to  assist  her,  and  as  the  old  man 
was  raised  knelt  down  behind  and  supported  the  head  and 
upper  body  in  a  half-sitting  position.  Though  the  eyes  had 
remained  closed  before,  they  opened  now,  to  confront  Craw- 
ford— poor  old,  dim,  lack-lustre  eves,  that  yet  seemed  to  have 
one  burning  spark  in  the  centre. 

"  You  say  that  you  are  a  Union  soldier.  Will  you  swear 
it  ?"  he  asked,  in  the  same  low,  solemn  tones. 

"I  do  solemnly  swear,  in  the  presence  of  Almighty  God," 
said  John  Crawford,  lifting  his  hand  to  heaven,  remembering 
some  portions  of  the  oath  so  commonly  administered  in  our 
courts  of  justice,  and  adding  on  some  words  not  commonly 
used  in  the  same  connection,  "  that  I  am  a  true  and  loyal  sol- 
dier in  the  service  of  the  United  States,  and  the  enemy  of 
all  rebels  and  traitors  !     Amen  !" 

"  Thank  God !"  said  the  old  man,  solemnly.  "  If  I  cannot 
die  with  the  old  flag  over  me,  I  can  at  least  have  the  company 
of  those  who  uphold  it !  Give  me  your  hand.  What  !,?  as 
the  young  soldier  came  closer.  "  You  are  wounded.  You 
have  been  in  the  battle  to-day.  You  are  defeated  and  a  fugi- 
tive ?" 

"No  1"  said  the  Zouave,  with  a  world  of  triumph  in  his 
tone,  and  giving  his  uninjured  hand  at  the  same  time.  "  I  am 
wounded,  but  McClellan  and  Fitz-John  Porter  have  to-day 
flogged  the  rebels  out  of  their  boots  at  Malvern  Hill,  and  the 
Union  armv  is  safe  !' 


SHOULDER -STRAPS.  291 

"  Thank  God  !  oh,  thank  God  1"  said  the  old  man,  reverently. 
"Marion,  lay  me  back,  I  am  faint."  Tie  did  not  seem  to  be 
aware  that  Webster  was  assisting  to  hold  him  up,  or  that  any 
one  was  in  the  place  except  Crawford  and  his  grand-daughter. 
His  request  was  obeyed,  and  he  was  laid  down  again  on  the 
pallet ;  but  the  excitement  of  the  last  few  minutes  had  per- 
ceptibly weakened  him,  and  he  was  evidently  failing  fast. 
"  Marion,  it  hurts  me  to  talk — a  little.  Tell  the  gentleman, 
for  he  is  a  gentleman,  I  know — who  we  are  and  how  we  came 
to  be  here." 

"  This  is  my  grandfather,"  the  young  girl  said,  still  on  her 
knees  by  the  pallet,  and  evidencing  in  her  calm  and  childlike 
tone  no  surprise  at  the  request,  and  no  agitation  in  relating 
what  must  have  pained  her  so  terribly  under  the  circum- 
stances. "His  name  is  Chester  Hobart.  We  belong  to  a 
good  family,  and  they  say  that  we  are  related  to  the  English 
Earls  of  Buckinghamshire.  My  father  was  Charles  Hampden 
Hobart.  He  was  an  officer  in  the  navy,  and  was  drowned 
when  I  was  quite  a  little  girl."  Crawford  did  not  notice,  then, 
but  remembered  afterwards,  that  in  this  strange  relation  she 
said  nothing  of  another  parent  who  seemed  likewise  to  be 
dead — her  mother.  "  My  grandfather  and  myself  lived  in  the 
house,  here.  We  had  black  servants,  but  they  have  all  gone 
away.  We  did  not  have  any  negro  quarter — the  servants  lived 
in  one  part  of  the  house.  My  grandfather  has  been  very  ill 
— so  ill  that  I  thought  he  would  die.  He  is  very  fond  of  the 
Union — I  do  not  know  anything  about  politics.  He  was  better 
a  little ;  but  the  house  took  fire  awhile  ago,  and  I  could 
scarcely  help  him  out.  I  got  out  the  straw  mattress  and  a 
sheet,  and  I  could  get  out  nothing  more.  I  am  afraid  my 
poor  grandfather  is  very  ill,  now ;  perhaps  ho  is  dying.  T 
thought  he  was  dying  a  little  while  ago,  and  I  screamed — I 
could  not  help  it,  That  is  all,  grandfather,  is  it  not  ?  oh, 
grandfather!  grandfather!"  and  the  poor  girl,  for  the  first 
time  broken  down,  fell  forward  on  the  straw  pallet,  buried 
her  face  near  the  old  man's  head,  and  sobbed  like  an  over- 
tasked child. 

"Poor  girl  !"  said  John  Crawford.  He  did  not  mean  to 
fpeak  aloud,  but  he  did  so,  and  the  dying  man  heard  him. 


292  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"Young  man,"  he  said,  "you  took  an  oath  just  now.  Will 
you  take  another,  to  make  an  old  man  die  happier  ?" 

"  I  will!"  answered  the  young  man.  bending  close  to  him. 
He  was  too  much  exhausted,  now,  to  raise  his  head  any  more. 

"You  say  that  the  Union  troops  have  won  the  fight  to- 
day?'' 

"I  do  say  so.  We  have  repulsed  the  rebel  attacks  every 
time  ;   and  the  last  repulse  was  a  rout.     They  are  defeated." 

"  You  believe  that  you  can  reach  the  Union  camp  in  safety  ?" 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  answered  the  Zouave. 

"  Then  swear  to  me,  with  the  same  uplifted  hand  you  used 
awhile  ago,  that  you  will  remove  my  grand-daughter,  Marion 
Hobart,  to  the  Xorth — out  of  this  den  of  secession.  She  has 
money  in  a  Bank  in  New  York,  enough  to  make  her  com- 
fortable— I  put  it  there  three  years  ago,  thinking  such  a  time 
as  this  might  come.  Swear  to  me  that  you  will  find  her  a 
home  with  some  honest  family,  and  that  you  will  neither  do 
harm  to  her  yourself  nor  permit  it  to  approach  her  if  you  can 
shelter  her  from  it.     Swear  it  by  the  Ever-Living  God." 

"I  swear  !"  said  the  young  soldier,  lifting  his  hand  sol- 
emnly. 

The  old  man  lay  still  on  his  pillow,  a  strange  and  awful 
shadow  stealing  over  his  face.  His  grand-daughter  had 
raised  her  head,  and  she  saw  it,  though  the  torch  had  burned 
low  and  there  was  little  but  the  red  light  of  the  fire  glimmer- 
ing into  the  building.  She  buried  her  face  once  more  in 
the  pallet,  threw  her  arms  around  the  old  man's  form,  and 
sobbed, 

"  Grandfather  !  oh,  grandfather  !" 

"  Hark  !  did  I  not  hear  cannon  again  ?  Are  you  sure  the 
Union  troops  have  won  the  victory?"  came  from  the  closing 
lips.  "  Y^ou  are  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman.  You  said  your 
name  was  Craw — Crawford.  A  good  old  name.  Nevermind 
me — take  care  of  Marion.  Marion — Ma — ."  He  was  silent, 
and  silent  forever,  except  as  the  dumb  lips  may  be  hereafter 
opened  ! 

Marion  Hobart  saw  the  lower  jaw  fall  and  the  open  eyes 
put  on  that  ghastly  appearance  which  is  the  seal  of  the  tri- 
umph of  death :  and  she  knew,  without  a  word  from  either 


SHOULDER-STKAPS.  293 

of  her  companions,  that  he  was  dead.  The  soldiers  saw  that 
she  comprehended  all  that  had  occurred,  and  expected  that 
she  would  shriek  again  and  throw  herself  wildly  on  the  body. 
She  did  not — she  merely  clasped  her  hands  and  looked  on  the 
body  with  such  a  pitiful  gaze  of  fixed  sorrow  that  Crawford 
could  not  bear  it  and  turned  away  his  eyes,  while  Webster 
found  sudden  and  unexplained  necessity  for  blowing  his  long 
nose. 

Suddenly,  and  before  a  word  had  been  spoken  by  either  of 
the  soldiers,  a  new  thought  came  to  the  young  girl  and  a  ter- 
rible look  of  fear  and  sorrow  swept  over  her  face. 

"  It  is  night  and  we  cannot  bury  him  I"  she  said,  her  voice 
broken  and  agonized.  "How  can  I  leave  him  unburied? 
Gentlemen — gentlemen — how  can  I  leave  my  poor  grand- 
father unburied  ?" 

"He  shall  not  remain  unburied  !"  said  Crawford,  instantly 
and  earnestly. 

"  He  should  not,  Miss,  if  I  had  to  make  a  ground-hog  of 
myself  and  dig  his  grave  with  my  own  hands  !"  put  in  Web- 
ster, who  had  scarcely  spoken  before  during  all  the  sad  scene. 

"Oh  thank  you  ! — thank  you  both  I"  she  began — then  sud- 
denly pausing,  she  said  :  "But  how — I  do  not  understand — 
it  is  night,  and  we  have  nothing — " 

"  In  half  an  hour  we  will  be  at  camp,  God  willing," 
answered  Crawford,  "  and  Colonel  Warren  will  send  a  guard 
of  soldiers  to  watch  the  body  until  morning  and  then  to  bury 
it  with  all  honor.     Do  you  understand,  Miss  Ilobart  ?" 

"  I  do,"  answered  the  young  girl,  her  sad  calmness  return- 
ing at  once.  "You  are  both  very  good  and  kind,  and  may 
God  bless  you.  You  want  to  go  ?  We  must  go,  I  suppose ; 
and  we  can  do  poor  grandfather  no  good  now  by  staying. 
Good-bye,  grandfather — poor  grandfather  !  I  shall  never  see 
you  again,  and  you  do  not  see  me,  even  now  !  Good-bye  ! 
oh,  grandfather,  grandfather  !  I  am  so  lonesome  !  so  lone- 
some I" 

For  one  moment  she  threw  herself  forward  on  the  pallet 
and  embraced  the  body  of  the  old  man,  in  uncontrollable  sor- 
row, while  both  the  two  Zouaves  found  themselves  shedding 
tears  very  inappropriate  for  the  evening  of  a  day  of  battle. 


294  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Then  she  rose  to  her  feet,  put  her  fingers  to  her  eyes  as  if 
pressing  out  the  moisture  that  had  gathered  unbidden  under 
the  lids,  and  said  : 

"  Shall  we  go  ?    I  am  ready." 

Reverently,  Crawford  drew  the  sheet  over  the  face  of  the 
corpse,  hiding  it  forever  from  the  eyes  of  the  bereaved  grand- 
daughter as  it  was  so  soon  to  be  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  all  the 
living;  and  then  the  doubly-orphaned  girl  and  her  new-found 
friends  took  their  way  from  the  scene  of  death.  She  was  dn 
only  in  light  delaine  and  had  neither  shawl  nor  bonnet  ;  but 
the  night  air  was  not  too  cool,  and  Webster  wrapped  his 
Zouave  jacket  around  the  slight  form,  while  Crawford  sup- 
plied her  with  his  handkerchief  as  a  covering  for  her  head 
They  took  their  way  at  once  from  the  house,  now  little  more 
than  a  heap  of  darkening  coals, — and  struck  south-eastward 
over  the  spur  of  the  hill  and  through  that  portion  of  the 
woods  least  likely  to  retain  any  ambushed  rebels,  towards  the 
quarters  on  Malvern.  The  sounds  of  battle  had  almost  en- 
tirely ceased,  it  being  now  some  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening; 
and  only  occasionally  the  boom  of  a  cannon  half  a  mile  away 
to  the  south'-westward  showed  that  the  opposing  forces  yet 
remained  near  each  other.  The  thick  smoke  which  had 
shrouded  all  the  country  during  the  day,  had  almost  all  rolled 
away,  the  young  moon  had  disappeared  in  the  west,  and  the 
stars  looked  down  as  clearly  and  beautifully  as  if  no  such 
things  as  war  and  death  could  exist  in  a  world  gazed  upon 
by  such  pure  eyes. 

Scarcely  a  word  was  spoken  by  either,  during  the  short 
walk  to  the  top  of  Malvern  Hill.  The  young  girl  leaned 
upon  the  uninjured  arm  of  John  Crawford,  with  a  touching 
confidence  and  trust,  an  occasional  convulsion  of  grief  shak- 
ing her  frame  and  an  occasional  sob  breaking  from  her  ;  while 
Bob  Webster  acted  as  scout  and  guide,  carrying  both  rifles, 
and  perhaps  not  the  more  on  that  account  prepared  to  repel 
any  sudden  danger.  But  no  such  danger  came.  The  rebels 
had  indeed  retired,  and  the  various  corps  of  the  Union  army 
had  been  gathered  in  to  their  respective  quarters,  preparatory 
to  the  march  to  Harrison's  Landing,  which  was  to  be  pur- 
sued at  daylight.     Not  all  of  them,  however.     It  was  well 


SHOULDEK-STRAPS.  295 

that  the  course  of  Crawford  and  his  companions  did  not  lie 
across  Carter's  Field ;  for  if  it  had  done  so,  they  must  have 
seen  hundreds  of  lanterns  moving-  about,  and  hundreds  of 
dark  figures  moving  and  toiling — the  fatigue-parties  burying 
the  Union  dead  and  planting  the  soil  of  the  Old  Dominion 
with  more  of  that  martyr  seed  which  may  yet  spring  up  to 
the  redemption  of  the  land  and  the  glory  of  the  nation.  This 
would  have  been  a  sad  and  harrowing  sight  for  the  young 
girl,  after  so  lately  leaving  her  last  relative  to  be  made  a  prey 
for  worms  ;   and  fortunately  she  was  spared  it. 

Perhaps  half  an  hour  after  leaving  the  burned  house,  the 
Zouaves  and  their  charge  reached  the  bivouac  of  the  Ad- 
vance Guard,  half  way  down  the  slope  towards  Carter's 
Field.  The  loss  of  the  corps  had  been  but  trifling,  in  spite 
of  their  furious  charge  ;  and  though  tired  and  hungry,  those 
who  had  not  dropped  down  in  their  places  to  sleep,  were 
merry  and  jubilant.  The  Union  forces  had  won  one  last 
great  victory  in  defeat,  and  they  knew  it  and  knew  that  the 
army  was  safe.  Crawford  had  ever  been  a  favorite  with  his 
corps,  respected  by  the  men  and  even  petted  by  the  officers  ; 
and  he  was  recognized  w^ith  shouts  of  welcome  by  many,  as 
he  made  his  way,  with  his  charge  on  his  arm,  towards  the 
Colonel's  tent. 

"  Hallo,  old  fellow  !  Safe  eh,  after  all  !"  cried  one  who 
recognized  him;  while  another  said:  "Thought  you  had 
gone  to  Richmond,  without  waiting  for  the  rest  of  us  !"  and 
another,  but  in  a  lower  tone  that  perhaps  Marion  Hobart  did 
not  hear :  "  I  say,  Jack,  where  the  deuce  did  you  pick  up  a 
petticoat,  and  a  white  one  at  that  ?" 

Colonel  Warren  received  the  young  Zouave,  and  heard  his 
story,  paying  .all  respect  to  the  young  girl  under  his  pro- 
tection. He  at  once  promised,  at  Crawford's  request,  that  a 
file  of  soldiers  should  go  down  to  the  burned  house  and  per- 
form the  rites  of  burial  before  the  corps  left  the  hill ;  where- 
upon the  face  of  the  young  girl  more  fully  repaid  him  by  its 
expression  of  true  gratitude,  than  did  even  her  words  of 
sad  thankfulness.  There  are  men  who  have  called  Colonel 
Warren  not  only  a  martinet  but  a  man  devoid  of  feeling  :  let 


296  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

his  action  on  this  occasion  prove  how  little  those  know  him 
who  speak  of  him  thus  coldly. 

"  Some  of  the  wagons  are  leaving  for  the  Landing  just 
now,"  he  said  to  Crawford,  after  the  latter  had  explained  the 
nature  of  his  wound  and  briefly  told  the  story  of  the  pro- 
tection he  had  promised  the  young  girl,  which  he  would  have 
no  difficulty  in  finding  for  her  in  the  company  of  his  brother 
and  sister.  "  Some  of  the  wagons  are  going  down  now. 
You  are  of  no  use  here,  and  you  had  as  well  take  the  lady 
down  at  once.  Make  her  as  comfortable  as  you  can  in  one 
of  the  wagons.  The  ride  is  only  a  short  one  ;  and  perhaps 
you  may  be  able  to  find  a  berth  for  her  on  board  one  of  the 
boats  at  the  Landing.  Stay,  Crawford,  a  despatch-boat  will 
be  going  down  to  Monroe  in  the  morning.  You  are  a  faith- 
ful fellow  and  a  good  soldier.  I  will  see  to  it,  in  the  morn- 
ing, that  you  have  a  furlough  for  a  month.  I  think  we  shall 
do  nothing  more  for  a  month,  and  you  may  need  that  time  to 
get  a  new  arm.  Take  Miss  Hobart  at  once  to  New  York, 
and  place  her  with  your  sister.  That  is  all — now  look  for  a 
place  in  one  of  the  wagons.  Good  night — I  will  see  about 
the  rest  before  the  boat  leaves." 

Crawford's  warm  "God  bless  you,  Colonel!"  was  more 
softly,  but  not  less  earnestly  echoed  by  the  "I  thank  you,  sir, 
very  much.  You  are  very  good  and  kind  !"  of  the  young 
girl ;  and  the  two  left  the  tent  to  follow  out  the  directions  of 
the  officer.  Bob  Webster,  unwounded,  was  already  with  his 
companions,  picking  up  what  he  could  find  left  in  the  way  of 
rations,  and  telling  over,  for  the  sixth  time  already,  the  ad- 
ventures of  the  night. 

Not  to  linger  upon  what  no  longer  needs  particular  descrip- 
tion, let  it  be  said  in  a  word  that  Crawford  succeeded  in  se- 
curing transportation  for  the  young  girl  and  himself  to  Har- 
rison's Landing ;  that  they  reached  that  return  terminus  ot 
the  campaign  against  Richmond,  a  little  after  midnight ;  that 
a  place  was  found  on  board  one  of  the  boats  at  the  Landing, 
for  Miss  Hobart,  under  the  kind  care  of  the  colored  chamber- 
maid ;  that  Colonel  Warren  kept  his  promise  and  procured  the 
wounded  Zouave,  (whose  arm  had  been  examined  by  one  of 
the  surgeons,  and  found  to  be  badly  torn  and  lacerated,  though 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  297 

none  of  the  bones  were  broken),  his  furlough  for  a  month  "  or 
until  recovered;"  that  they  went  down  the  next  day  on  the 
despatch  boat  to  Fortress  Monroe,  whence  General  Wool  at 
once  sent  them  onto  Washington;  and  that  on  the  evening 
of  the  Fourth  of  July  they  reached  the  city  of  New  York  and 
John  Crawford  had  the  pleasure  of  placing  his  sacred  charge 
under  the  protection  of  his  brother,  whom  he  found  yet  so 
sadly  an  invalid,— and  of  his  sister,  who  received  her  with  a 
warmer  and  more  considerate  kindness  than  he  had  ever  be- 
fore known  her  to  exhibit  towards  any  living  object. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

Judge  Owen  and  his  Domestic  Discipline— Two  Criminals 
at  the  Bar,  with  a  Special  Edict  following— A  Row  at 
Wallack's,  and  one  more  Recognition. 

It  has  again  been  unavoidable,  in  following  the  fortunes  of 
other  characters  connected  with  this  narration,  to  lose  sio-ht  of 
those  who  have  prominently  figured  in  the  mansion  of  Jndse 
Owen-the  Judge  himself,  his  wife,  his  daughter  Emily,  Aunt 
Martha,  and  the  two  lovers  who  fought  over  that  very  pretty 
little  bone  as  if  they  had  been  dogs  and  she  a  tit-bit  of  very 
different  description.     But  it  is  one  of  the  first  principles  of 
conduc  ting  the  successful  march  of  an  army,  that  no  stragglers 
should  be  allowed  to  lag  too  far  behind,  lest  a  sudden  onslaught 
upon  them  might  cause  a  panic  extending  to  all  the  other  por- 
tions of  the  force.     Let  the  Judge  and  his  family,  then  be 
kept  up  as  nearly  as  possible  to  the  march  of  the  main  body 
and  especially  let  not  pretty  Emily  Owen  and  her  mischievous 
K-mer-lover  be  lost  from  the  ranks  by  any  contingency.         ' 
Aunt  Martha  saw  farther  into  futurity  than  her  niece,  when 
sh    decided  that  the  row  between  Frank  Wallace  and  Colon,! 
John  Boadley  Bancker,  if  it  came  to  the  Judge*  ears,  would 
¥  likely  to  make  afiairs  much  worse  instead  of  better;   and 


298  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Emily  and  she  had  some  serious  conversation  over  the  pros- 
pect, that  night  of  the  street  accident,  after  botb  the  rivals  had 

gone, — which  did  not  tend  to  make  the  young  girl  go  to  her 
white  pillow  with  the  most  blissful  of  anticipations.  The 
younger  lady  thought  it  doubtful  whether  the  matter  need 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  her  father  at  all,  as  she  did  not  be- 
lieve that  the  Colonel  would  so  far  bemean  himself  as  to  make 
a  complaint  to  the  father  of  the  young  girl  he  was  pursuing,  of 
the  advantages  which  another  suitor  might  possess  over  him  in 
the  mind  of  the  girl  herself.  Aunt  Martha,  who  had  seen  some- 
what more  than  her  niece  of  the  world  and  its  meanness,  did 
not  consider  the  Colonel  too  proud  to  take  such  a  course,  if 
he,  believed  himself  likely  to  gain  by  it;  and  besides — she  re- 
membered, what  her  niece  did  not,  that  they  wen.'  by  no  means 
alone  in  the  house  when  the  little  a  Hair  occurred.  Servants 
— those  important  personages,  who  in  modern  days  keep  the 
houses  and  permit  their  masters  and  mistresses,  on  the  pay- 
ment of  a  round  sum  per  week,  to  live  in  the  house  with  them 
■ — those  ubiquitous  personages,  who  seem  to  have  the  faculty 
of  being  precisely  where  they  are  not  wanted,  when  any  fa- 
mily trouble  is  to  be  ventilated, — servants  were  in  the  house 
at  the  time,  and  there  was  no  guaranty  whatever  that  they 
had  not  been  sufficiently  near  to  hear  every  awkward  word 
that  had  been  spoken. 

The  good  Aunt  felt  that  she  had  the  more  cause  to  be 
apprehensive  in  the  latter  direction,  from  some  observations 
that  she  had  accidentally  made  a  few  weeks  before.  Xot 
long  after  the  coming  into  the  house  of  Miss  Hetty,  cook 
and  kitchen  girl,  (she  is  certainly  entitled  to  the  prefix  of 
"  Miss,"  at  least  once,  from  the  fact  of  her  holding  her  head 
a  little  higher  than  any  member  of  the  family)  a  little  after 
her  advent,  we  say,  Aunt  Martha  happened  one  evening  to 
pass  through  the  lower  hall,  in  list  slippers,  and  accidentally 
became  aware  that  two  persons  were  talking  in  a  very  low 
tone,  just  within  the  door  of  the  dining-room.  Perhaps  it 
may  have  been  accidentally,  but  possibly  on  purpose,  that 
she  took  one  glance  through  the  crack  of  the  door,  her- 
self unobserved,  and  noticed  that  the  talkers  were  Judge 
Owen  and  Hettv.     The  tone  was  certainlv  confidential,  and 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  299 

the  two  stood  very  near  together.  Had  Mrs.  Martha  West 
not  been  aware  of  certain  points  in  her  brother's  character 
which  would  make  a  criminal  flirtation  with  a  servant-girl  in 
his  own  house  impossible,  she  might  have  drawn  the  con- 
clusion that  some  impropriety  of  that  kind  was  on  foot.  As 
it  was,  she  became  satisfied  that  some  of  her  previous  sus- 
picions were  correct,  and  that  Judge  Owen,  who  habitually 
went  to  the  intelligence-offices  and  selected  the  servants  when 
any  change  became  necessary,  was  capable  of  the  ineffable 
meanness  of  bribing  his  domestics  to  play  the  spy  on  his  own 
household  and  detail  all  the  occurrences  to  him !  Where  the 
estimable  man  had  picked  up  that  particular  meanness,  she 
had  no  idea,  nor  is  this  a  place  in  which  to  hazard  a  sug- 
gestion. If  it  was  so,  it  might  be  suggested  that  the  practice 
of  hearing  and  allowing  weight  to  spy  testimony,  caught 
through  key-holes  and  the  cracks  of  doors,  or  picked  up  by 
lounging  at  people's  elbows  on  sidewalks  and  in  bar-rooms, 
had  possibly  some  connection  with  the  application  of  the 
same  system  to  his  own  household. 

Perhaps  there  may  be  persons  upright  and  straight-forward 
enough  themselves,  and  unsuspicious  enough  of  the  vices  and 
meannesses  of  others,  to  doubt  whether  such  things  as  those 
just  hinted  at,  exist  in  the  great  city.  To  such  it  might  not 
be  amiss  to  say,  that  there  are  operations  of  this  character, 
in  what  is  called  "  respectable  society,"  so  much  worse  than 
the.  mere  procured  espionage  of  servants,  that  they  make  that 
atrocity  almost  endurable.  Fancy  the  husband  of  a  second 
wife  keeping  his  eldest  daughter  by  a  former  marriage,  her- 
self a  married  woman,  in  the  same  house  with  his  wife,  with 
orders  to  keep  that  wife  constantly  in  view,  to  watch  her 
when  she  receives  company,  dog  her  when  she  goes  out,  and 
dole  out  to  her  the  necessaries  for  the  family  from  closets, 
chests  and  cupboards  of  which  she  [the  daughter]  keeps  the 
keys  !  Fancy  these  things,  and  the  wife  submitting  to  them, 
perforce  !  And  then  understand,  what  is  the  humiliating 
truth,  that  the  lady  subjected  to  these  practices  is  a  most 
beautiful  and  accomplished  favorite,  delighting  thousands  by 
her  public  appearances,  envied  by  all,  and  supposed  to  be 
rolling  in  wealth  and  revelling  in  comfort ! 
10 


300  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Not  long  ago  there  was  a  ston-  going  the  rounds  of  the 
press,  of  some  spicy  sporting  operations  in  England,  in  which 
one  trainer  and  jockey  threw  one  of  his  creatures,  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  stable-boy,  into  the  stables  of  another,  to  watch  the 
appearance  and  action  of  his  horses,  to  overhear  what  he 
could  of  the  conversation  of  the  trainer,  to  discover  for  what 
cups  and  matches  they  were  abojut  to  be  entered,  and  to  make 
weekly  reports  to  him,  through  letters  pretendedly  add; 
to  the  boy's  "mother,"  so  that  he  could  take  advantage  of 
the  knowledge  so  unfairly  attained,  in  making  up  his  betting- 
book.  By  a  mere  accident  the  trainer  discovered  what  kind 
of  an  emissary  of  the  enemy  was  quartered  in  his  stables, 
and  instead  of  kicking  him  out  he  merely  gave  him  plenty  to 
report.  He  managed  to  have  the  boy  overhear  all  sorts  of 
manufactured  conversations,  rode  his  horses  unfairly  on  the 
training-course,  stuffed  him  with  false  reports  of  the  matches 
for  which  they  were  entered,  and,  in  short,  gave  him  such 
budgets  to  send  home  to  his  master,  that  the  latter  grew 
completely  mystified,  bet  on  the  losing  chances  instead  of  the 
winning  ones,  and  lost  about  twenty  thousand  pounds,  which 
went  into  the  pocket  of  the  intended  victim.  The  story  is  a 
good  one,  and  for  the  honor  of  humanity  ought  to  be  true. 

Not  many  years  ago  a  jealous  old  husband  in  this  city,  who 
had  fallen  into  the  misfortune  of  a  young  and  handsome  wife, 
grew  jealous  of  her  without  the  least  cause,  and  descended 
to  the  execrable  meanness  of  putting  one  of  the  chamber-maids 
under  pay  to  play  the  detective  and  report  to  him  what  let- 
ters her  mistress  received  and  all  the  "goings  on"  in  the 
house.  Biddy  was  not  quite  keen  enough  for  her  new  po- 
sition, and  the  bright  eyes  of  the  young  wife  were  not  long  in 
discovering  that  she  was  watched  and  dogged  !  AVhat  did 
the  outraged  wife  ?  Send  the  vixen  packing,  bag  and  bag- 
gage, with  a  boxed  ear  for  a  parting  present,  as  she  might 
have  done  with  all  propriety  ?  Not  at  all — she  retained  her 
and  kept  her  own  discovery  a  secret,  merely  adopting  the 
same  plan  as  our  friend  the  trainer,  and  giving  her  something 
to  tell.  The  wife  fortunately  had  half  a  dozen  male  cousins, 
living  at  a  distance,  and  as  many  female  friends,  living  near. 
Between  these  two  corps  of  assistants  she  managed  to  receive 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  301 

such  letters,  accidentally  dropped  for  the-  servant-girl  to  finger, 
and  received  such  clandestine  visits  when  her  husband  was 
absent  and  at  suspicious  hours,  as  left  no  doubt  whatever  in 
the  mind  of  a  reasonable  man  like  the  husband,  that  she  must 
be  terribly  false  to  her  marital  vows.  The  catastrophe  of  all 
this  need  not  be  given  :  it  was  final  enough,  in  all  conscience, 
and  sent  the  husband  down  town  one  day  with  a  dim  con- 
sciousness that  he  had  made  himself  the  greatest  fool  since 
Adam,  and  that  an  early  burial  would  not  be  so  great  a  ca- 
lamity after  all  ! 

Unfortunately  Judge  Owen,  of  this  writing,  had  no  such 
sharp-witted  and  reckless  opponent,  and  his  meanness  was 
left  to  work  itself  out  in  a  natural  manner.  Aunt  Martha's 
apprehensions  were  not  idle,  as  was  proved  very  soon  after. 
The  Judge  and  his  wife  returned  from  their  little  trip  up  the 
Hudson,  on  the  second  day  after  their  departure  ;  and  within 
three  hours  after  their  arrival,  before  the  Judge  had  been  ab- 
sent from  the  house  a  moment  and  before  Colonel  Boadley 
Bancker  could  by  any  means  have  managed  to  see  him,  the 
storm  of  paternal  wrath  and  indignation  burst  on  the  devoted 
heads  for  which  it  was  intended. 

The  gas  had  just  been  lighted  on  the  floor  below,  and  Aunt 
Martha  and  Emily  were  seated  enjoying  the  summer  twilight 
in  the  front-room  of  the  latter,  up-stairs,  when  the  stentorian 
voice  of  the  Judge  was  heard  bawling  from  the  hall : 

"  Martha — Emily — come  down  here  a  moment !" 

11  There  it  is  !  there  is  trouble  ahead  !  I  knew  it !"  said 
Aunt  Martha. 

"  He  cannot  have  heard  anything  about  it,  yet,"  said  the 
niece. 

"He  has,  I  am  sure  of  it!"  answered  the  Aunt.  "We 
may  as  well  go  down  and  take  the  thunder-storm,  at  once,  as 
have  it  hanging  over  us  for  a  month." 

"  Oh,  Aunt,  I  cannot  endure  to  have  Papa  scold,  when  he  is 
in  one  of  his  terrible  humors,"  said  the  frightened  girl.  "  I 
have  done  nothing,  that  I  know  of;  but  you  don't  know  what 
rough  words  he  says  to  me  sometimes,  and  I  have  been  almost 
afraid  that  he  would  strike  me  with  that  heavy  hand  !  I  be- 
lieve I  should  die  if  he  did." 


302  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  Xo,  child,  you  would  not  die,  I  think,"  said  the  more 
practical  Aunt,  "but  something  might  occur  for  which  your 
father  would  one  day  be  quite  as  sorry — your  last  particle  of 
love  and  respect  for  him  might  die,  and  that  would  be  sadder 
than  the  death  of  many  bodies.  But  come,  Emily  ;  we  shall 
be  called  again  in  a  moment." 

Aunt  and  niece  descended  the  stairs  to  the  parlor,  the  latter 
trembling  like  a  leaf  in  the  wind  and  the  former  in  a  strange 
flutter  that  was  part  trepidation  and  part  indignation.  They 
found  affairs  in  the  parlor  in  a  very  promising  condition,  as 
the  aunt  had  suspected.  Judge  Owen  was  too  angry  to  sit 
in  his  large  chair,  as  he  would  have  liked  to  do,  and  receive 
the  culprits  with  judicial  dignity.  He  was  walking  the  floor, 
with  his  hands  behind  his  back  and  every  indication  of  very 
stormy  weather  on  his  countenance.  He  looked  bigger  and 
more  burly  than  ever,  and  less  than  ever  like  what  the  brother 
and  father  should  have  been,  to  the  two  who  entered.  Mrs. 
Owen  sat  in  a  rocking-chair,  swaying  backward  and  forward, 
with  her  hand  to  her  eyes  and  very  much  the  appearance  of  a 
whipped  child  who  had  been  set  down  in  that  chair  with  orders 
to  be  "  good."  It  was  not  supposable  that  the  Judge  had  been 
whipping  her,  physically ;  but  he  had  unquestionably  been 
"  getting  his  hand  in"  for  the  exercise  that  was  to  come,  by 
reading  her  a  severe  lecture  upon  everything  that  she  had 
done  and  everything  she  had  not  done,  since  the  day  they 
were  married. 

"  So  then  !"  he  broke  out,  the  moment  the  culprits  appeared 
in  view.  "  This  is  the  kind  of  order  you  keep  in  my  house — 
my  house  !"  and  he  emphasized  the  possessive  pronoun  so  se- 
verely that  the  poor  little  word  must  have  had  a  hard  time  of 
it  among  his  strong  front  teeth. 

Emily,  as  yet,  replied  nothing.     But  Aunt  Martha  said  : 

"  Well  really,  brother,  I  do  not  see  that  the  house  is  in  very 
bad  order !  Perhaps  that  rocker  is  a  little  out  of  place,  and 
the  etagere — " 

"D — n  it,  woman,  I  am  not  talking  of  the  furniture,  and 
you  know  it  !"  thundered  the  Judge. 

"  William  Owen  !"  said  Aunt  Martha,  who  had  not  gone 
through  fifty  or  a  hundred  such  conflicts  without  deriving 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  803 

6ome  controversial  profit  from  them — "  I  do  not  choose  to  be 
sworn  at,  in  your  house  or  the  house  of  any  other  man.  If 
you  were  a  gentleman,  you  would  not  be  guilty  of  the  out- 
rage." 

Emily  trembled.  Here  was  Jupiter  plucked  by  the  beard, 
and  called  hard  names  to  his  face,  by  one  of  the  mere  under- 
lings of  his  dominions  !  William  Owen  not  a  gentleman  ! 
Judge  Owen  not  a  gentleman  !  Could  human  presumption 
go  farther  ?     What  would  be  the  end  of  this  ? 

"  I  will  swear  as  I  like,  and  when  I  like  !"  said  the  Judge, 
after  a  pause  of  an  instant.  But  he  did  not  swear  again  im- 
mediately,  and  not  at  all  again  at  his  sister,  during  the  whole 
interview,  it  was  noticeable.  Brutality  is  not  best  met  by 
brutality  ;  but  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  it  is  best  met 
by  abject  submission.  What  it  needs,  as  its  master  and  cor- 
rective, is  dignified  firmness. 

"  So  this  is  the  way,  is  it,"  the  Judge  went  on.  "  The  moment 
my  back  is  turned,  my  house  is  full  of  low  characters,  and 
quarrelling  and  fighting  become  the  order  of  the  day." 

"  When  did  all  this  occur  ?"  asked  Aunt  Martha,  innocently. 

"  The  very  evening  I  left !"  thundered  the  Judge. 

"  And  how  have  you  found  it  all  out,  so  soon  ?"  queried  his 
sister,  looking  him  very  calmly  in  the  eyes. 

It  may  be  a  libel,  for  which  an  action  would  lie,  to  say  that 
Judge  Owen  blushed  at  this  home-thrust.  He  certainly  red- 
dened, but  that  may  have  been  with  anger — not  shame. 

"  How  do  I  know  it  ?  What  business  is  that  of  yours, 
woman  ?  It  is  enough  to  say  that  I  do  know  it,  and  that  I 
will  break  all  that  sort  of  thing  up,  or  I  will  break  half  a 
dozen  heads  !"  This  was  a  favorite  simile  of  the  Judge's, 
because  it  brought  in  the  word  "  break"  twice,  in  such  an 
effective  manner.  "  Well,  Miss  Emily  Owen,  what  have  you 
to  say  to  all  this  ?"  It  may  be  libel,  again,  to  say  that  the 
Judge  was  sheering  off  his  vessel  from  a  battery  that  worried 
him,  to  engage  one  that  seemed  comparatively  helpless ;  but 
really  the  whole  thing  bore  that  appearance. 

"  I,  father  ?  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  returned  the  daughter, 
"  and  for  that  reason  I  have  not  said  anything. " 

"You  do  not  deny,  then,"  thundered  the  Judge,  his  voice 


304  SHOULDER-STRAPS 

rising  higher  because  he  had  a  younger,  lower-voiced  and  less 
formidable  antagonist,  "  that  on  the  very  night  I  went  away 
there  was  low  company  in  this  house,  and  that — " 

Perhaps  Emily  Owen  had  never  presumed  to  interrupt  her 
father  half  a  dozen  times  during  her  life,  but  we  have  before 
seen  that  she  could  do  so,  even  wickedly,  when  fully  aroused, 
and  the  temptation  to  do  so  in  the  present  instance  was  over- 
powering. Besides,  she  had  just  caught  a  lesson  from  her 
aunt,  in  the  "  womanly  art  of  self-defence,"  the  muscular  de- 
velopment for  which  lies  in  the  tongue. 

"  Do  you  call  Colonel  J3anekcr  low  company,  father?" 

"  Colonel  Baucker  ?  No,  girl !  Colonel  Bancker  is  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  soldier,"  replied  the  Judge.  "I  am  speaking  of 
that  low,  contemptible  scoundrel,  Wallace." 

"And  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of  coming  here  with  your 
consent,  papa,"  answered  the  daughter,  "and  so  I  do  not 
know  how  we  were  to  blame  for  receiving  the  visits  of  people 
when  you  were  gone,  whom  you  were  in  the  habit  of  receiving 
when  you  were  at  home." 

"Hush,  child!  Hush,  Emily!"  Mrs.  Owen  felt  it  neces- 
sary to  say  at  this  moment.  She  had  not  before  spoken  a 
word,  but  she  may  have  felt  that  that  incarnation  of  reason 
and  dignity,  her  husband,  was  "taking  damage  "  at  the  hands 
of  very  ordinary  mortals.  "  Hush,  child — do  not  bandy  words 
with  your  father." 

"  No,  miss,  do  not  bandy  words  with  me/"  roared  the  Judge, 
put  exactly  upon  the  right  track,  from  which  he  had  before 
strayed  a  little,  by  the  words  of  his  wife.  "  /  am  .master  in 
this  house,  as  I  mean  to  let  you  know  !"  Humble  Judge  ! — 
he  had  let  them  know  it,  long  before,  quite  as  much  as  lay  in 
his  power.  "  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  be  run  over  in  this 
manner,  any  longer  !"  Ponderous  and  self-sacrificing  Judge  ! 
— apart  from  the  fact  that  no  one  in  that  house  had  ever  tried 
the  experiment,  what  a  vehicle  it  would  have  been  that  could 
"run  over"  that  man  without  danger  from  the  encounter! 
And  now  gathering  strength  and  force  as  well  as  anger,  as  he 
rolled  down  the  mountain  of  denunciation,  he  went  on:  "I 
have  called  you  down,  both  of  you,  and  you  especially,  Emily, 
to  make  a  final  settlement  with  you  !     I  have  told  you  before 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  305 

that  you  should  marry  Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker,  and  T 
need  not  tell  you  again,  for  by  G —  you  shall!  And  now  I 
tell  you  something  more.  If  you  ever  permit  that  d — d  low- 
lived, miserable,  contemptible  puppy,  whom  you  call  Frank 
Wallace,  to  cross  the  door-step  of  this  house  again,  I  will 
break  every  bone  in  his  infernal  carcase  ;  and  when  he  goes 
into  the  street,  you  go  with  him  !     Do  you  hear  ?" 

"  Yes,  father,  I  hear,"  said  his  daughter. 

H  Yes,  we  both  hear,  as  I  suppose  you  intended  it  for  both 
of  us,"  said  his  sister. 

"I  intended  it  for  everybody  /"  roared  the  Judge.  "  Xow 
let  us  see  whether  you  obey  or  not  i  Come,  Mrs.  Owen,  is 
supper  ready  ?" 

Probably  the  Judge  supposed  that  he  had  supplied  both 
the  others  with  quite  as  much  supper  as  they  needed,  as  he  did 
not  extend  the  invitation  to  either.  He  certainly  had  done 
so :  they  were  both  "  full,"  in  one  sense  of  the  word  if  not  in 
the  other.  His  daughter  was  "  full  "  of  trouble  and  anxiety  ; 
and  Aunt  Martha  was  "full"  of  a  more  dangerous  feeling — 
outraged  pride  and  indignation. 

"Poor  Frank! — he  cannot  come  to  the  house  any  more  !" 
said  the  young  girl,  when  they  had  left  the  parlor.  "  What 
shall  I  do  ?  Aunt — Aunt — don't  scold  me,  but  I  love  him. 
That  is  the  truth  ;  and  don't  you  scold  me,  but  help  me  if  you 
can." 

,"  Until  this  hour,  Emily,"  said  the  aunt,  gravely,  and  taking 
the  hand  of  her  niece  kindly  in  her  own,  "  I  had  simply  been 
determined  that  you  should  not  be  forced  into  a  marriage  with 
Colonel  Bancker,  if  I  could  prevent  it.  Within  this  half  hour 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  farther.  I  know  that  you 
love  Frank  Wallace ;  I  believe  him  to  be  a  good  man,  and  I 
know  him  to  be  a  brave  one ;  and  now  }rou  shall  marry  him, 
if  any  aid  /  can  offer  will  help  you  to  that  end  !" 

"  Aunt !  Aunt !  dear,  good,  kind  Aunt !"  cried  the  young 
girl,  throwing  herself  into  the  widow's  arms  and  giving  her 
such  a  hug  and  such  a  storm  of  kisses  as  would  have  made 
Frank  Wallace  whistle  "  Hail  Columbia "  and  "  Abraham's 
Daughter  "  for  forty-eight  hours  in  succession. 

Such  was  the  radical  effect,  towards  carrying  out  his  de- 


606  S  H  O  U  L  DE  K  -  S  T  K  A  P  S. 

termination  in  regard  to  each  of  the  two  rivals,  produced  by 
Judge  Owen's  ultimatum.  He  was  not  the  first  man,  and  he 
probably  will  not  be  the  last,  to  pour  the  drop  too  much  into 
the  bucket  of  endurance  and  add  that  last  feather  to  the  load 
which  weighs  down  the  camel  of  patience.  Something  more 
of  the  "effect"  will  be  seen  in  this  immediate  connection. 

Judge  Owen  had  occasion  to  attend  a  political  caucus,  at 
one  of  the  down-town  hotels,  early  in  the  evening  of  the 
second  day  from  that  on  which  the  collision  with  his  sister 
and  daughter  had  occurred  ;  and  he  consequently  did  not  go 
home  to  dinner  when  his  court  adjourned.  He  dined  at  the 
hotel  where  the  caucus  took  place,  and  afterwards  strolled  up 
Broadway,  airing  his  portly  figure,  and  intending  to  take  the 
Third-Avenue  cars  at  Astor  Place  or  Fourteenth  Street. 
When  he  came  opposite  "Wallaek's  Theatre,  at  about  nine 
o'clock,  the  lights  shone  brightly  before  the  door,  the  placards 
announcing  the  "Returned  Volunteer "  and  "  Mischievous 
Annie"  looked  tempting,  and  as  Judge  Owen  had  an  eye  for 
the  drama  and  was  officially  marked  "  D.  H."  on  the  book  at 
the  gate,  he  concluded  to  see  the  balance  of  the  performance. 

He  passed  in.  Florence  was  just  indulging  in  that  terrible 
war-dance  of  jealousy  which  follows  the  supposed  discovery 
of  the  fact  that  the  wife  of  Bill  Williams  has  taken  up  with 
a  Picaninny,  and  the  laughter  and  applause  were  uproarious. 
The  Judge  found  some  acquaintances  in  the  lobby,  and  chat- 
ted with  them  while  he  watched  the  piece  and  while  waiting 
for  the  next. 

Finally  another  friend,  a  family  acquaintance,  came  up  the 
aisle,  from  the  orchestra-seats,  probably  on  his  way  to  those 
pleasant  lower  regions  in  which  refreshment  to  the  inner  man 
is  dispensed.     As  he  shook  hands  with  the  Judge,  he  said  : 

"  Ah,  Judge,  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  here.  I  saw 
your  daughter,  just  now,  clown  in  the  orchestra,  but  I  am 
sure  she  did  not  come  in  with  you." 

11  My  daughter  !"  said  the  Judge,  surprised,  "  I  think  you 
must  be  mistaken.  "  Mrs.  Owen  did  not  speak  of  coming  to 
the  theatre  this  evening." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  acquaintance,  "  Mrs.  Owen  is  not  here.  I 
should  have  seen  her  if  she  had  been.     Your  daughter  came 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  307 

in  with  a  young  man,  and  they  are  sitting  together  down 
there  in  the  second  row  frqm  the  front," 

"  You  do  not  know  the  young  man  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  on 
whom  the  compound  noun  for  some  cause  produced  an  un- 
pleasant effect. 

"  Xo,"  answered  the  acquaintance,  "  I  do  not  know  him. 
He  is  a  rather  good-looking  young  fellow,  short,  with  brown 
curly  hair,  and  a  moustache,  and  dressed  in  light-gray.  No 
doubt  you  know  him  by  the  description." 

Judge  Owen  did  know  him  by  the  description,  but  too 
well  !  That  short  good-looking  young  man  with  the  curly 
hair,  the  moustache  and  the  light-gray  clothes,  was  as  cer- 
tainly the  man  he  had  forbidden  his  house  and  the  company 
of  his  daughter,  as  his  own  name  was  Owen  and  his  dignity 
a  judicial  one  ! 

Here  was  an  outrage  ! — witness  it  ye  fathers  whose  daugh- 
ters do  not  always  obey  your  high  behests.  Here  was  a  call 
for  the  exercise  of  the  highest  qualities  of  authority ! — bear 
witness  to  that,  all  you  good  people  who  have  at  one  time  or 
another  dragged  your  wives  out  of  churches  because  you  did 
not  like  the  ritual,  or  who  have  dragged  them  into  churches 
because  suitors  armed  with  money-bags  or  aristocratic  names 
or  political  influence,  stood  within  and  beckoned !  Here  was 
a  necessity  for  proving  what  Judge  Owen  had  only  a  day  or 
two  before  so  loudly  asserted — his  ascendency  in  his  own 
household.  Here  was  an  opportunity  to  show  to  the  public 
that  Judge  Owen,  arbiter  of  the  legal  destinies  of  his  fellow- 
men  when  they  did  not  range  beyond  a  certain  insignificant 
number  of  dollars,  was  at  once  a  Solon  and  a  Draco  in  his 
own  domestic  relations.  Great  men  will  develope  them- 
selves at  some  period  or  other  in  their  lives,  however  they 
may  previously  have  been  kept  back  by  adverse  circum- 
stances ;  and  Judge  Owen  had  never  yet  enjoyed  the  op- 
portunity of  showing  half  his  mighty  energies.  Armed  with 
the  double  power  of  a  parent  and  the  law,  he  felt  that  he 
could  combat  anything — even  a  young  and  delicate  woman  : 
gifted  with  a  rigid  sense  of  right  which  rose  above  all  per- 
sonal considerations,  he  felt  that  to  that  right  he  could  sacri- 


308  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

fice  anything — even  the  privacy  and  sanctity  of  his  domestie 
relations. 

The  great  men  of  old  had  done  something  in  that  way  : 
Brutus  had  laid  his  son,  without  a  tear  or  a  groan,  on  the 
altar  of  his  country;  Yirginius  had  slain  his  daughter  when 
her  perilled  honor  demanded  that  violent  deed ;  and  only 
half  a  century  before  his  own  time,  Xapoleon  had  given  up  a 
beloved  Empress  and  married  a  royal  nobody,  for  the  sake  of 
preserving  the  dynasty  that  his  people  so  demanded.  It  only 
remained  for  William  Owen,  Judge,  to  emulate  those  great 
examples  and  drag  his  daughter  out  of  the  theatre  ! 

It  may  have  been  that  Judge  Owen  did  not  think  of  quite 
all  those  great  examples,  as  he  walked  broadly  and  pompously 
down  the  aisle,  disturbing  the  audience  just  when  the  curtain 
was  rising  on  the  second  piece  ;  but  he  certainly  bore  himsell 
as  if  he  remembered  all  of  them  and  a  few  hundreds  more. 
Anxious  spectators  looked  at  him  as  he  came  down,  specu- 
lating painfully  whether  he  was  likely  to  take  his  seat  in  front 
of  them,  and  calculating  what  would  be  their  chances  of  see- 
ing in  that  event.  But  the  Judge  was  not  going  to  sit  down 
— no  !  At  the  gate  he  encountered  a  momentary  obstruction, 
in  the  shape  of  the  usher  who  booked  after  the  orchestra 
tickets ;  but  he  swept  him  away  as  a  spring  freshet  might 
carry  away  a  bundle  of  obstructing  sedge,  by  a  majestic  wave 
of  the  hand  and  the  information  that  he  was  merely  going 
down  there  for  a  moment  on  business. 

Then  he  strode  on  down  the  aisle,  unobserved  as  yet  by 
the  lovers,  who  sat  in  the  seat  next  the  front  and  within  three 
or  four  places  of  the  end  of  the  row,  enjoying  the  dramatic 
entertainment  and  each  others'  company  about  equally.  Per- 
haps they  sat  a  very  little  closer  together  than  they  might 
have  done  had  there  been  no  parental  objection  in  the  way ; 
and  under  the  folds  of  Emily's  dark  mantilla,  which  lay  upon 
her  lap,  there  may  have  been  two  hands  clasped  together. 
Let  the  young  and  the  loving,  whose  province  it  is  to  make 
such  follies  half  the  material  of  their  lives,  decide  whether 
affairs  were  likely  to  be  exactly  in  the  shape  suggested, — as 
also,  whether  at  any  time  during  the  evening,  when  it  had 
become  necessarv  for  Frank  Wallace  to  make  a  remark  to 


HOULDKR-STRAPS.  309 

his  companion,  he  had  or  had  not  leaned  down  his  lips  so 
close  to  her  ear  as  almost  to  kiss  its  pink  pendant. 

The  first  intimation  had  by  the  absorbed  lovers  that  the 
paternal  bomb  was  bursting  in  the  neighborhood,  was  con- 
veyed by  the  Judge  halting  at  the  end  of  their  row,  leaning 
over  the  two  or  three  people  between,  without  any  apology, 
stretching  out  his  arm,  and  saying  in  his  loud,  coarse  voice  : 

"  Miss  Emily  Owen,  you  are  wanted  at  home." 

The  blood  flew  to  the  face  of  the  young  girl  in  an  instant, 
though  it  was  the  blood  of  anxiety  and  not  of  shame,  and 
she  asked : 

"  Is  any  one  ill — hurt  ? — My  mother — " 

"Your  mother  is  well,  and  there  is  no  one  sick  at  home," 
said  the  Judge,  determined  that  his  lesson  to  his  daughter 
should  not  be  balked  by  any  one  of  the  audience  thinking 
him  less  a  brute  than  he  was.  "But  I  find  you  here  in  im- 
proper company  and  against  my  orders  ;  and  I  command  you 
to  leave  that  man  and  come  home  with  me  instantly." 

Decided  sensation  in  the  orchestra-seats,  and  even  on  the 
stage,  where  Mrs.  Florence  paused  in  the  middle  of  one  of 
her  most  effective  Yankeeisms,  to  know  what  caused  the  in- 
terruption. Sensation  in  a  good  many  fingers,  that  they 
would  like  to  be  applied  violently  to  the  ears  of  the  man 
who  could  speak  in  that  manner  to  so  sweet-looking  a  girl, 
no  matter  under  what  provocation.  A  few  hisses  and  cries 
of  "  Hush-h-h  !"  "  Hush-h-h !"  Poor  Emily  had  sunk  back  in 
her  chair,  the  moment  her  anxioty  was  relieved  by  mortifica- 
tion, merely  saying  in  a  pleading  voice,  as  if  to  disarm  her 
tyrant : 

"  Oh,  father !" 

Frank  Wallace,  meanwhile,  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  the  mo- 
ment the  opprobrious  epithet  was  applied  to  him;  and  though 
he  distinctly  saw  that  the  intruder  was  the  puissant  Judge 
Owen,  Emily's  father,  and  large  enough,  physically,  to  eat 
him  for  lunch — he  was  on  the  point  of  springing  across  the 
intervening  space  and  giving  him  a  taste  of  his  gymnastic 
quality.  This  would  have  been  terribly  improper,  no  doubt, 
towards  a  man  much  older  than  himself,  and  the  father  of  the 
girl  he  yet  hoped  one  day  to  make  his  wife  ;  but  the  specta- 


310  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

tors,  had  he  done  so,  and  could  they  have  known  all  the  facts 
of  the  case,  would  have  been  much  more  likely  to  forgive  him 
than  the  miserable  hound  (now  a  miserable  secessionist — thank 
Heaven  for  his  choice  !)  who  bore  a  military  title  to  his  name, 
a  few  years  ago,  and  sat  still  in  one  of  the  theatres  of  this  city, 
without  daring  to  lift  a  hand  in  opposition,  while  the  just- 
married  wife  by  his  side  was  brutally  caned  by  her  millionaire 
father  for  daring  to  marry  him!  High  temper  may  be  dan- 
gerous, and  the  rough  hand  something  to  be  avoided  and  re- 
probated ;  but  there  is  something  worse  in  the  extreme  oppo- 
site, and  humanity  worse  sickens  at  the  sight  of  an  abject 
poltroon,  than  at  any  other  worthless  fungus  that  springs  as 
an  excrescence  from  God's  footstool. 

All  the  saints  be  praised  for  these  little  women  !  They 
are,  after  all,  the  balance-wheels  of  life,  and  the  whole  ma- 
chinery would  run  riot  and  go  to  destruction  without  them. 
They  bring  us  to  ourselves,  often,  and  so  save  us  from  our- 
selves. When  they  advise  peace  and  patience,  they  are  gen- 
erally right,  for  at  such  times  violence  is  seldom  politic. 
Frank  "Wallace  would  probably  have  carried  out  his  violent 
first  intention,  but  for  the  hand  of  Emily  which  dropped  upon 
his  arm  almost  before  he  had  risen,  and  the  soft  voice  which 
spoke  in  his  ear,  very  hurriedly : 

"  Don't,  Frank,  for  my  sake  !  Let  me  go,  and  sit  still. 
You  shall  see  me  again  in  a  day  or  two.    Til  pay  Pa  for  this  !" 

Very  much  consoled  by  these  words,  and  especially  by  the 
last  clause,  Frank  Wallace  resumed  his  seat,  merely  indulging 
in  a  remark  which  was  heard  by  many  around  him,  and  which 
may  or  may  not  have  been  heard  by  the  person  at  whom  it 
was  aimed: 

11  Bah  !  you  big  brute  !" 

A  little  suppressed  clapping  of  hands  in  the  neighborhood, 
which  the  actors  probably  thought  intended  for  themselves, 
but  which  certainly  was  not.  Meanwhile  Emily  Owen,  drop- 
ping her  hand  by  some  kind  of  unexplainable  intuition  to  the 
very  spot  where  Frank's  was  lying,  gave  it  a  quick  squeeze, 
then  stumbled  gracefully  over  the  legs  of  the  persons  sitting 
between  her  and  the  aisle,  and  followed  her  father.  As  she 
passed  two  or  three  steps  uo  the  aisle,  the  Judge  leading 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  311 

pompously,  and  the  gate-keeper  calculating  the  chances  of 
being  able  to  crush  him  by  accidentally  letting  the  iron  gate 
slam  to  against  his  legs, — she  encountered  a  recognition  that 
was  almost  an  adventure.  A  young  girl  who  sat  in  the  next 
to  the  end  seat  of  the  back-row  of  the  orchestra,  leaned  over 
the  gentleman  outside  and  caught  her  hand,  saying  : 

"  Emily  Owen — I  know  it  is  !     Do  you  not  remember  me  ?" 

"  Josephine  Harris  !  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you  !"  was  the 
reply  of  Emily,  the  moment  her  eyes  fairly  took  in  the  face 
and  figure  before  her. 

"  I  could  not  see  your  face  before,  and  did  not  know  that 
you  were  here.  How  long  it  is  since  I  saw  you  ! — ever  since 
I  left  Rutgers,  and  you  were  still  hammering  away  there  !"  said 
Josephine  Harris,  who  was  indeed  the  other,  having  come 
down  to  Wallack's  with  a  party  of  friends,  for  the  evening, 
and  who  had  not  before  had  a  chance  to  recognize  her  old 
friend  and  school-fellow  at  the  Rutgers  Institute. 

"  Come  and  see  me.  Papa  is  in  a  hurry,  and  I  cannot 
wait,"  said  Emily,  doubtful  whether  her  friend  had  or  had  not 
observed  the  preceding  movements.  "  I  have  not  time  for  a 
card — look  in  the  Directory  and  send  me  yours.  Good 
night  I"  and  in  a  moment  she  was  gone,  following  the  Judge 
to  that  mental  slaughter  involved  in  riding  home  with  him  in 
his  present  mood,  and  leaving  the  performance  to  pass  on 
again  as  if  no  interruption  had  occurred. 

As  may  be  supposed,  Frank  Wallace  was  something  of  an 
"object  of  interest"  for  the  small  remainder  of  the  evening; 
but  he  had  no  acquaintances  in  the  neighborhood,  and  not 
much  remark  was  ventured.  One  man  behind  him,  indeed, 
leaned  over  and  said  :  "  Lost  your  girl,  eh  ?"  but  Frank's 
"  Ya-a-s  !"  was  so  broad  and  discouraging  for  any  further 
questions,  that  the  inquiry  was  not  pursued.  Most  men,  un- 
der similar  circumstances,  would  have  left  the  theatre  at 
once,  to  avoid  observation  and  to  hide  annoyance  :  he  did 
not,  and  he  may  have  acted  wisely  or  unwisely  in  that  course 
of  conduct. 

Josephine  Harris  had  observed  the  preceding  movements 
on  the  part  of  Judge  Owen,  and  it  was  through  recognition 
of  his  figure  that   she  looked   after   and  recognized  Emily. 


312  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Had  the  latter  been  left  quietly  sitting  beside  her  lover,  her 
schoolmate  would  probably  not  have  seen  her  face,  they 
would  have  left  the  theatre  without  recognition  of  each  other, 
and  Judge  Owen's  house  might  have  escaped  a  very  early 
visit  destined  to  work  important  changes  in  the  relations  of 
residents  and  visitors.  The  puissant  and  pompous  Judge 
had  effected  two  coups  d'etat  within  as  many  days.  The  one 
had  driven  Aunt  Martha  fairly  over  into  the  ranks  of  the 
enemy :  had  the  second  introduced  Joe  Harris,  an  electric 
wire  full  charged  with  destruction,  into  the  immediate  vi- 
cinity of  his  domestic  magazine  ? 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


Another  Scene  at  the  Crawforps' — Joe  Harris  play- 
ing the  Detective,  with  Musical  Accompaniments — 
A  Strange  Conversation,  and  a  Strange  Visit  to  a 
Strange  Doctor. 

Some  chapters  back  in  this  narration,  we  saw  Colonel  Eg- 
bert Crawford  playing  volunteer  physician  to  his  invalid 
cousin  Richard,  and  applying  a  certain  bandage  more  or  less 
suspicious  in  its  character,  while  Josephine  Harris  held  a 
very  ambiguous  position  behind  the  parlor-door  and  drew 
certain  deductions  not  complimentary  to  the  character  or  in- 
tentions of  the  gallant  Colonel.  To  take  up  the  dropped 
thread  of  relation  at  that  point — the  Colonel  left  in  a  few 
moments  afterwards,  and  Joe,  from  her  position  in  the  room 
up-stairs,  watched  his  departure.  By  that  time,  the  fearful 
agitation  which  had  at  first  oppressed  her,  had  somewhat 
moderated,  and  she  was  much  more  capable  than  before  of 
thinking  with  clearness  and  acting  with  decision.  "  A  perfect 
little  fool"  in  many  of  her  first  confidences  (as  some  of  her 
friends  paid  her  the  doubtful  compliment  of  calling  her),  Jo- 
sephine Harris  had  vet  a  vein  of  distrust  in  her  character, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  313 

not  difficult  to  touch  ;  and  when  that  vein  was  touched  there 
was  not  "poppy  or  mandragora"  enough  in  the  world  to 
lull  to  sleep  be*  suspicions,  until  they  were  either  proved 
true  or  fairly  exploded. 

Frank  and  generous  natures  will  sometimes  discern  more 
clearly  than  subtle  and  designing  ones,  just  as  the  naked  eye 
will  sometimes  take  in  particulars  in  any  scene  more  readily 
than  when  assisted  by  the  glass.  The  power  of  discernment 
may  be  aided,  in  some  degree,  by  the  fact  that  they  are  not 
guarded  against  as  some  are  because  they  bear  the  look  or 
reputation  of  being  dangerous.  Many  a  man  has  taken  off 
the  outer  garb  of  his  soul  and  gone  in  his  mental  shirt- 
sleeves (so  to  speak)  from  the  impression  on  his  mind  that  he 
was  in  the  company  of  the  confiding  and  the  unobservant ; 
and  many  a  bad  man  has  found  detection  and  ruin  in  the 
experiment. 

Josephine  Harris  had  seen  something  in  the  eyes  of  Colonel 
Egbert  Crawford,  when  directed  towards  his  invalid  cousin, 
which  said :  "  I  hate  you,  and  I  would  put  you  out  of  the 
way  if  I  could  !"  She  had  remarked  the  terrible  agitation 
of  Richard  Crawford  when  she  made  her  random  observation 
to  that  effect.  Now  she  had  overheard  enough  to  put  her  in 
possession  of  the  conflict  of  interests ;  and  she  had  at  the 
same  time  witnessed  the  application  to  the  body  of  the  in- 
valid, of  a  preparation  that  was  expressly  ordered  to  be  kept 
from  the  knowledge  of  the  physician.  Taking  all  these 
things  together,  and  jumping  at  a  conclusion  with  a  rash 
haste  which  such  people  will  sometimes  exhibit — away  down 
in  the  depths  of  her  mind  she  whispered  the  word  "poison/" 
She  might  never  have  thought  of  the  existence  of  an  out- 
ward poison  dangerous  to  human  life,  but  she  had  read  Mrs. 
Ann  S.  Stephens'  touching  story  of  "The  Pillow  of  Roses," 
and  remembered  how  the  life  of  the  first  lover  of  Mary  Stuart 
had  been  sacrificed  by  the  introduction  of  a  deadly  bane  into 
the  silken  pillow — the  very  gift  of  love  on  which  he  so  confid- 
ingly laid  his  head.  Might  not  this  be  something  of  the  same 
kind — a  murderous  practice  unknown  to  the  great  body  of  peo- 
ple, and  yet  in  the  knowledge  of  some  peculiarly  instructed  ? 
What  more  likely  than  that  a  lawyer  whose  line  of  business 


314  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

led  him  into  the  company  of  criminals  and  made  him  ac- 
quainted with  their  secret  confessions,  should  have  arrived  at 
a  knowledge  so  dangerous  and  resolved  to  apply  it  for  his 
own  benefit  and  the  removal  of  a  rival  ? 

Such  were  the  reflections  of  Josephine  Harris,  when  her 
blood  had  a  little  cooled  down  from  the  terrible  fever  of  fright 
and  anxiety  into  which  she  "had  been  thrown  at  the  first  dis- 
covery ;  and  how  nearly  right  she  was  in  the  most  important 
particular — the  fact  of  an  attempted  poisoning  by  outward 
application — all  will  recognize  who  remember  the  interview 
between  the  lawyer  and  the  Obi  woman  of  Thomas  Street, 
with  the  dark  paste  which  he  brought  away  with  him  as  the 
result  of  that  visit. 

At  all  events,  the  young  girl  felt  that  she  had  seen  enough 
to  remove  any  doubt  of  the  propriety  of  making  farther  re- 
searches, and  to  do  away  with  any  shame  that  she  had  origi- 
nally felt  in  playing  the  part  of  a  spy  and  listener.  Ardent 
natures  like  hers  may  possibly  be  blamed  for  adopting  so 
readily  the  maxim  that  "the  end  justifies  the  means,"  and  for 
plunging  so  determinedly  into  what  cannot  be  considered  their 
own  business ;  but  let  those  blame  them  who  will,  the  good 
they  accomplish  may  well  be  made  a  set-off  for  any  evil  they 
unwittingly  cause ;  and  the  parable  of  the  man  who  "  fell  among 
thieves,"  and  the  heartless  wretches  who  "passed  by  on  the 
other  side,"  should  make  us  a  little  slow  in  blaming  the  "  good 
Samaritans  "  who  work  so  enthusiastically  even  if  uninvited 
and  unskilfully. 

The  plain  English  of  all  which  is,  that  Josephine  Harris 
had  determined  to  fathom  the  whole  of  the  mystery  lying  be- 
tween Richard  Crawford  and  his  cousin,  no  matter  what  de- 
ceptions she  might  be  called  upon  to  pursue  in  carrying  out 
her  plan,  or  what  amount  of  time  and  trouble  might  be  neces- 
sary for  that  purpose.  She  might  have  applied  the  rules  of 
Egbert  Crawford's  own  profession  to  him,  in  expressing  this 
determination,  and  said  that  enough  had  been  proved  against 
the  suspected  person,  to  put  him  on  his  trial  before  a  fair  and 
impartial  jury — that  jury  being  herself  in  the  first  instance. 
Herself  and  herself  only.  For  once  Joe  Harris  determined  to 
suppress  her  propensity  for  talking  everywhere  and  to  every- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  315 

body,  and  to  admit  no  confidant  whatever  into  a  knowledge 
of  her  suspicions.  What  else  she  intended  to  do,  will  in  due 
time  develop  itself  in  action. 

As  a  first  step,  she  smoothed  down  her  face  with  her  hands, 
under  some  kind  of  impression  that  she  could  in  that  way  re- 
move the  redness  from  her  cheeks  and  the  startled  look  from 
her  eyes.  Then  she  ran  into  Bell's  chamber,  assuming  all  the 
nonchalance  she  could  pick  up  on  the  way,  to  ascertain  whether 
that  young  lady  was  likely  to  remain  away  from  the  parlor 
for  a  brief  period  longer.  She  found  her  very  busy  among 
a  miscellaneous  heap  of  dresses  and  millinery  (this  was  before 
the  visit  to  the  sorceress,  which  gave  her  something  else  to 
think  about — let  it  be  remembered,)  and  in  that  occupation 
she  was  safe  to  remain  for  an  indefinite  period.  No  visitors 
coming  in,  then,  she  was  likely  to  have  the  field  below-stairs 
to  herself  for  a  short  time  at  least,  and  that  time  must  be  used 
vigorously. 

She  ran  lightly  down -stairs  and  into  the  empty  parlor. 
There  was  no  sound  whatever  coming  out  of  the  little  room 
of  the  invalid — he  was  no  doubt  still  alone.  With  the  same 
care  which  she  had  before  taken,  she  stepped  to  the  glass 
doors,  slid  them  apart  as  before,  and  looked  through.  Richard 
Crawford  was  yet  lying  on  the  sofa,  and  he  was  buttoning  up 
his  vest.  A  very  simple  and  natural  movement,  and  one  not 
at  all  noticeable  under  ordinary  circumstances ;  but  to  Jo- 
sephine Harris,  at  that  moment,  it  seemed  very  significant. 
There  wan  poison  ;  that  poison  lay  in  the  bandage  ;  he  had 
suspected  his  cousin,  allowed  him  to  change  and  replace  that 
bandage,  and  the  moment  he  believed  himself  alone  and  un- 
observed, had  taken  it  off!  To  say  that  Joe  Harris's  eyes 
sparkled  at  this  proof  of  her  suspicions,  would  be  quite 
insufficient — they  flashed,  danced  and  radiated  with  delight, 
in  such  a  manner  as  made  it  ven"  fortunate  for  the  peace 
of  mind  of  the  whole  male  sex  that  she  happened  to  be 
alone. 

Kiehard  Crawford  had  taken  off  that  bandage,  and  that 

bandage  must  come  into  her  possession  at  once,  while  the 

preparation  was   fresh.     lint    how  was  it  to   be   obtained  ? 

"Where  had  he  put  it  ?     From  the  fact  that  he  had  been 

20 


316  SHOl'LDEK-STKAPS. 

re-arranging  his  clothes  while  yet  in  a  recumbent  position, 

the  chances  seemed  to  be  that  he  had  taken  off  the  bandage, 
if  at  all,  without  getting  up,  and  that  he  then  had  it  some- 
where about  him,  intending  to  lock  it  up  or  put  it  away 
when  he  rose  to  go  to  the  bed-room.  lie  was  wry  neat  in 
his  personal  habits,  as  well  as  somewhat  nervous  in  disposi- 
tion ;  and  on  the  score  of  cleanliness  he  was  not  likely  to 
have  put  it  into  one  of  his  pockets,  while  if  he  indeed  felt  it 
to  be  poison  he  would  have  been  quite  as  unlikely  to  retain  it 
so  near  his  person.  Joe  felt  that  if  removed,  that  bandage 
must  be  somewhere  about  the  sofa.  How  to  get  it,  even 
then  ?  He  would  not  be  at  all  likely  to  go  to  bed,  leaving  it 
there  ;  besides,  she  wanted  it  at  once !  He  must  be  got  sud- 
denly out  of  the  room,  and  he  was  too  weak  and  suffering  to 
remove  often  or  on  small  provocation.  The  piano  ! — ah,  yes, 
she  would  try  the  piano  ! 

Joe's  musical  performances  were  always  pyrotechnic  ;  ex- 
cept on  particular  occasions  when  the  sad  soul  that  underlay 
the  merriment  came  uppermost,  and  then  they  were  mournful 
enough  to  tempt  suicide.  To  say  that  she  knew  nothing 
about  music,  would  be  untrue  of  any  one  taught  at  the  same 
trouble  and  expense ;  but  to  say  that  she  understood  it,  taking 
the  knowledge  of  other  people  as  a  standard,  would  be  equally 
incorrect.  When  studying  music  under  an  excellent  teacher, 
it  had  been  found  impossible  to  confine  her  to  any  set  rules, 
and  quite  as  impossible  to  make  her  execute  her  lessons  prop- 
erly. When  she  should  have  been  performing  that  routine 
duty,  her  eolian  piano  at  home  was  half  the  time  turned  into 
a  banjo  or  a  harp,  tinkling  a  serenade,  or  into  an  organ,  play- 
ing some  ponderous  old  anthem  or  sobbing  out  some  dirge 
of  a  broken  heart.  These  were  all  well  enough,  in  their  way, 
but  they  were  not  studying  the  piano.  As  a  result,  she 
could  produce  all  those  effects  upon  the  instrument,  that  no 
one  else  would  ever  have  thought  of  attempting ;  the  only 
penalty  being,  that  what  any  one  else  could  have  done,  she 
could  not  do  at  all.  This  did  not  suit  some  people,  but  it 
suited  Miss  Joe,  exactly ;  and  as  she  wTas  pleased,  perhaps 
no  one  else  had  a  right  to  complain.  If  any  one  did  com- 
plain he  or  she  was  likely  to  be  at  once  treated  to  one  of 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  ol7 

the  lugubrious  compositions  before  mentioned,  producing  the 
"  dumps''  for  a  month  after. 

On  this  occasion  Joe  throw  open  the  lid  of  the  piano  with 
such  dexterity  as  to  tangle  the  cover  inextricably  with  the  lid, 
set  up  the  stool  with  a  whirl,  and  dashed  into  the  midst  of  a 
composition  that  might  have  been  conceived  by  a  mad  mu- 
sician and  wailed  out  on  an  instrument  possessed,  like  Paga- 
nini's  fiddle,  one  night  when  the  demons  of  the  storm  were 
playing  at  hide-and-seek  among  the  Ilartz  Mountains  of 
Germany.  It  went  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  scale, 
in  such  moanings,  and  wailings,  and  sobbings,  intermingled 
with  such  fiendish  dashes  of  exultation  and  laughter,  that  the 
nerves  of  a  strong  man  might  have  been  thrown  into  perma- 
nent disorder  by  it,  while  those  of  a  sick  one  could  not  do 
otherwise  than  suffer  the  most  exquisite  torture. 

"  I  think  that  will  do  I"  said  Miss  Joe  to  herself,  pausing 
for  an  instant  and  then  going  on  again.  She  was  right,  for 
at  the  next  partial  pause  she  heard  the  voice  of  Dick  Craw- 
ford, from  the  back-room,  yelling  out  with  more  energy  than 
the  man  himself  had  before  thought  that  he  possessed  : 

V  Sto-o-o-op  !" 

She  did  stop — ran  to  the  sliding-doors  and  opened  them  at 
onte,  to  find  Crawford  sitting  upon  the  sofa,  with  his  hands 
to  both  ears. 

"Eh?  what's  the  matter,  Dick  ?  Does  the  music  disturb 
you  ?"  she  asked,  as  naturally  as  if  she  had  not  before  been 
aware  of  the  fad. 

"  Disturb  me  ?  It  murders  me — you  know  it  does,  you 
torment !"  was  the  reply  of  Crawford. 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  said  Joe,  with  the  least  perceptible  pout 
on  her  lip.    "  I  suppose  that  I  must  go  home,  then,  and  play." 

"  No,"  said  Crawford,  who  had  no  idea  of  being  guilty  of 
the  ungallantry  of  driving  a  lady  out  of  his  house,  especially 
dear,  delicious,  tormenting  Joe.  "  No,  don't  go  home.  But 
if  you  must  play,  why  not  play  something  Christian  and  re- 
spectable— something  that  a  man  can  listen  to  without  grit- 
ting liis  teeth  and  Btopping  his  ears  more  than  half  the  time  ?" 

''Well,  that  is  complimentary!"  sighed  Josey.  "Just 
when  I  was  doing  the  very  best  that  I  could  !     Besides.  I 


318  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

wasn't  playing  for  you.  You  were  not  in  tlio  room,  but  stuck 
away  off  there  in  a  corner.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do,  Mr. 
Dick  Crawford.  Let  me  help  you  out  here  to  a  sofa  in  this 
room — the  air  will  not  hurt  you,  but  do  you  good, — and  I 
promise  to  play  for  you  the  very  tunes  you  wish.    If  not — " 

"Oh,  you  need  not  mention  the  alternative,"  said  Craw- 
ford, remembering  the  preceding  performance  and  afraid  of  a 
repetition.  "  Come  here,  give  me  your  arm,  and  I  will  come 
out  for  a  few  minutes." 

"Bravo  !"  thought  wild  Joe,  but  she  did  not  say  it.  Very 
gently  and  tenderly  she  assisted  the  invalid  from  his  sofa  and 
to  a  standing  position,  and  then  quite  as  tenderly  through  the 
door  and  to  the  sofa  that  stood  nearly  opposite  the  piano. 
Then  she  ran  back  and  closed  thediding-doors  again,  for  fear, 
as  she  said,  that  there  might  be  too  much  draught  of  air  on 
the  invalid.  So  far,  so  good  !  Richard  Crawford  had  been 
coaxed  out  of  his  room  and  into  the  parlor  that  he  scarcely 
entered  once  a  month.     What  next  ? 

"Play  me  a  wreath  of  Scottish  melodies,"  said  Crawford, 
with  the  feeling  of  the  old  blood  coming  up  within  him. 
"And  be  sure  that  you  throw  in  '  Roy's  "Wife  '  and  'Annie 
Laurie.'  Will  you  ? — That's  a  good  girl  ?"  Dick  spoke  more 
cheerfully  than  had  been  his  late  habit,  and  settled  himself 
to  an  easy  position  on  the  sofa  with  more  the  air  of  a  man 
ready  to  enjoy,  than  he  had  for  some  time  manifested. 

"Has  there  been  an  incubus  suddenly  lifted  from  his 
breast  ?"  Joe  Harris  asked  herself,  noticing  the  change. 

If  there  was  anything  that  she  really  could  play  on  the 
piano,  her  forte  lay  in  those  very  Scottish  airs,  which  she 
certainly  rendered  with  exquisite  feeling  and  with  skill  enough 
for  the  moderate  demands  of  that  class  of  music.  And  on 
this  occasion  she  felt  bound  to  exert  herself,  to  repay  the  ob- 
ligation of  Crawford's  coming  out  to  hear  her,  though  her 
brain  was  all  in  a  whirl  for  fear  something  might  occur  to 
drive  the  patient  back  into  his  room,  and  her  fingers,  as  they 
touched  the  white  keys,  itched  to  be  busying  themselves  about 
the  cushions  of  the  invalid's  sof'sr  For  a  few  moments,  while 
"Within  a  Mile  of  Edinboro' Town,"  "Roy's  Wife,"  "Charlie 
is  My  Darling,"  "  Bonnie  Doon"  and  half  a  dozen  others  of 


SHOULDER-STRAPS  319 

the  Scottish  wreath  were  dripping  from  her  fingers,  and 
while  Richard  Crawford  was  enjoying  his  favorite  music  bet- 
ter than  he  had  before  enjoyed  anything  for  many  a  week, — 
for  this  few  moments  Joe  Harris  was  nonplussed.  How  should 
she  get  out  of  the  room  ?  Oh  !  Suddenly  she  remembered 
that  there  was  some  music  on  one  of  the  tables  up-stairs,  and 
she  aeted  upon  that  excuse  for  absence. 

"  Oh,  Dick,  please  lie  still  a  moment.  There  is  a  piece  up- 
stairs that  I  must  bring  down  and  play  for  you.  I  know  you 
will  like  it.  One  of  Gottschalk's — '  Las  Ojos  Criollos.'  "  She 
had  caught  sight  of  that  composition  lying  at  the  top  of  the 
heap  of  music  near  her,  and  without  being  observed  by  Craw- 
ford she  caught  the  sheet,  rolled  it  up  in  her  hand,  and  was 
out  of  the  room  in  a  moment. 

"  Tut !  tut !  what  a  pity  that  that  girl  never  can  be  still  a 
moment  and  do  exactly  what  any  one  asks  her  to  do  !"  was 
the  mental  comment  of  that  gentleman  as  her  flying  skirts 
disappeared  through  the  door. 

Of  course  Josephine  Harris  did  not  go  up  stairs.  She  had 
no  real  errand  whatever  in  that  direction.  There  was  a  door 
opening  from  Richard's  little  bed-room,  adjoining  his  study, 
into  the  hall ;  and  her  hope  was  to  find  that  door  unlocked. 
If  not,  some  other  excuse  must  be  made  to  get  into  his  room, 
to  invent  which  she  must  play  a  few  more  tunes,  and  run  a 
little  more  risk  of  being  interrupted.  She  stepped  very  lightly 
to  the  door,  with  a  repetition,  of  that  cat-step  which  seemed 
that  day  suddenly  to  have  come  to  her.  She  turned  the  knob 
— it  teas  unlocked — it  opened.  One  dart  through  the  other 
door  and  to  the  sofa.  The- cushion  was  a  moveable  one,  as 
she  knew,  and  very  likely  to  be  made  a  temporary  hiding-place 
for  any  small  article,  by  one  lying  upon  it.  She  lifted  the 
edge  of  the  cushion,  her  heart  beating  at  trip-hammers  again, 
and  her  whole  being  almost  as  much  excited  as  it  had  been 
half  an  hour  before.  Human  life  is  full  of  blunders,  but  hap- 
piiy  there  are  some  movements  that  are  not  blunders;  and  this 
was  one  of  them.  A  small,  round  roll  of  linen,  three  or  four 
inches  wide,  was  stuck  a  little  distance  under  the  edge.  She 
it  out,  hastily  unrolled  it  until  she  saw  that  a  dark 
plaster  lay  in  the  middle,  then,  with  a  "Whew!"  of  triumph, 


320  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

quite  as  hastily  rolled  it  up  again  and  thrust  it  into  her  pocket. 
Half  a  minute  more,  and  she  had  softly  ascended  a  dozen 
steps  of  the  stairs,  and  descended  again  with  plenty  of  noise, 
springing  down  with  a  decided  bump  on  the  landing.  Then 
she  burst  into  the  parlor  with  her  piece  of  music,  and  sat  down 
once  more  to  the  piano. 

"Excuse  my  running  away,  Dick.  Haven't  been  long — 
have  I  :-- 

11  No,  not  very  long,"  answered  Crawford,  whose  impres- 
sions of  Joe's  steadiness  were  not  enthusiastic.  "You  know 
I  should  not  have  been  surprised  if  you  had  not  come  back 
in  a  week." 

"  Fie  !  fie  !  Dick  Crawford  !  I  have  half  a  mind  not  to  play 
for  you  at  all,  after  that  insult."  But  she  did  attempt  to  play, 
and  to  play  "Las  Ojos  Criollos."  If  she  ever  could  have 
played  that  most  brilliant  and  difficult  of  all  Gottschalk's 
pieces,  which  was  very  doubtful,  she  certainly  was  not  capa- 
ble of  doing  it  when  her  fingers  were  in  such  a  tremor,  and 
with  the  mysterious  package  in  her  pocket ;  and  though  it  may 
be  an  un gallant  and  improper  thing  to  say  of  a  lady's  perform- 
ance, she  "made  a  mess  of  it." 

"  Pshaw  !"  she  said,  as  naturally  as  if  really  vexed.  "  That 
piece  is  very  difficult.  I  thought  that  I  had  mastered  it,  a 
dozen  times,  yet  here  it  is  bothering  me  again.  Never  mind  ! 
— I  know  what  I  can  play — something  that  you  like,  or  if  you 
do  not,  you  should  !"  And  very  much  to  Crawford's  delight, 
for  she  did  not  often  sing,  though  she  frequently  hummed, — 
she  broke  out  with  voice  and  instrument  into  that  finest,  though 
worst-hackneyed,  of  modern  lovexballads — "Ever  of  Thee." 
There  are  unaccountable  fancies,  in  music  as  well  as  in  per- 
sonal regard,  and  one  piece  will  sometimes  make  itself  the 
very  key-note  of  a  human  heart,  without  being  in  itself  so 
pre-eminently  beautiful  as  to  command  that  distinction. 
Crawford  had  before  many  times  heard  Josephine  Harris 
humming  that  air,  or  touching  it  lightly  on  the  keys  of  the 
piano,  but  he  had  never  before  heard  her  sing  it.  Before  half 
of  the  first  stanza  was  finished,  he  knew  that  it  supplied  to 
her  a  need  in  music  that  all  the  compositions  of  all  the  great 
masters  would  fail  to  fill ;  and  before  she  had  finished  the  last> 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  321 

he  believed  that  some  painful  secret  of  her  young  life  must  be 
bound  up  in  it.  He  was  the  more  painfully  confirmed  in  that 
belief,  when  he  saw  her  rise  from  the  piano  the  moment  after 
she  had  concluded  the  song,  and  dash  her  hand  to  her  eyes 
with  the  unmistakeable  gesture  of  wiping  away  a  tear. 

11  Joe — dear  Joe,"  he  said,  "  come  here  a  moment." 

She  crossed  the  room  at  once  and  stood  beside  him.  He 
held  out  his  hand  to  her,  and  she  took  it  as  a  sister  might 
have  taken  that  of  a  dearly  beloved  brother.  There  was 
nothing  of  heat  or  tremor  in  the  touch,  though  there  was 
everything  of  kindness.  Absorbed  in  something  else,  both 
had  for  the  moment  forgotten  the  feeling  before  predomi- 
nant— Crawford  his  sickness  and  crippled  condition,  and  Joe 
Harris  her  anxieties  and  her  plans  with  reference  to  him. 

"  Josephine  Harris,"  he  said,  very  kindly,  almost  tenderly, 
"■  answer  me  one  question,  as  candidly  as  it  is  asked.  Will 
you  ?" 

"You  could  not  ask  me  an  improper  question,"  she  replied, 
"  and  so  I  could  have  no  reason  for  refusing  to  answer  you. 
I  will." 

"  You  have  been  singing  '  Ever  of  Thee,' "  he  went  on. 
"■  Your  whole  heart  was  in  it  when  you  sung,  and  when  you 
stopped  your  voice  was  broken  and  your  eyes  were  full  of 
tears.  Tell  me — is  there  a  sad  secret  of  your  life  connected 
with  that  song  ?  Consider  me  your  brother,  and  do  not  be 
afraid  or  ashamed  to  answer  me." 

"  Richard  Crawford,  I  do  consider  you  as  a  brother,"  the 
young  girl  replied— "  a  dear  brother,  in  whom  I  would  con- 
fide as  in  one  of  my  own  blood.  I  mean  to  prove  to  you, 
some  day,  what  a  true  sister  I  am.  I  am  neither  afraid  or 
ashamed  to  answer  your  question.  I  have  no  grief  or  sad 
memory  connected  with  '  Ever  of  Thee,'  any  more  than  with 
any  other  sadly  beautiful  piece  of  music  with  words  of  the 
same  character." 

"  Indeed  !— I  thought  otherwise  !"  said  Crawford,  with 
something  of  disappointment  in  his  tone.  "  And  yet  it  moves 
your  light  heart  very  strangely." 

"  It  does,"  said  Josephine  Harris.     "  I  never  sing  it  or  hear 


322  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

it  sung  without  the  tears  gathering  in  my  eyes,  even  if  they 
do  not  fall." 

"And  you  can  give  no  reason  for  this  peculiar  feeling  V\ 
"  Oh  yes,"  answered  the  young  girl,  "  though  no  doubt  you 
will  laugh  at  my  reason  when  you  hear  it." 
"  I  think  not,"  said  Crawford.     "  Tell  me." 
"  Yoi  think  me  very  gay  and   merry,"  said  Josephine. 
"  So  I  a'u,  but  I  suppose  that  I  have  something  deeper  in 
my  nature,  that  '  crops  out'  occasionally,  as  the  geologists 
say.     I   suppose  that   I    am   a  visionary  in    some    respects 
and   among  my  visions  is   a  love  worthily  fixed  and  fully 
returned.     So  few  seem  to  find  this,  that  I  fear  I  shall  miss 
it — either  miss  it  altogether  or  find  it  too  late.     The  thought 
is  a  sad  one,  and  that  song  seems  insensibly  to  blend  with  it. 
When  I  am  singing  '  Ever  of  Thee,'  I  am  singing  to  my  ideal 
love  that  may  be  escaping  beyond  the  reach  of  my  fingers 
forever." 

True  woman  of  the  golden  heart ! — God  in  heaven  grant 
that  to  you  and  such  as  you  this  vision  may  be  no  dim  un- 
reality !  God  grant  you  true  hearts  against  which  your  own 
may  beat,  and  faithful  arms  upon  which  you  may  lean  when 
the  day  of  your  probation  is  accomplished  !  And  failing  this 
fruition,  the  same  God  of  love  and  peace  grant  you  a  truer 
and  more  enduring  union  with  hearts  that  pulsate  truly  to 
your  own,  in  that  land  where  the  sad  wail  of  "  Too  Late  !" 
is  never  heard  and  where  no  binding  link  fetters  the  limbs  or 
galls  the  spirit ! 

"  I  understand  you  now,"  said  Richard  Crawford.  "  And 
yet  yours  is  a  strange  fancy  and  would  be  a  dangerous  one 
in  many  minds.  But  you  are  a  brave  girl,  I  believe,  and 
that  makes  all  the  difference.  Besides,  you  have  health  and 
strength,  and  most  of  the  time  high  spirits.  An  invalid — a 
miserable  cripple  like  myself,  housed  and  shut  away,  can 
scarcely  hope  to  understand  or  appreciate  anything  that 
comes  freshly  in  out  of  God's  sunshine  !"  The  old  sad  and 
repining  spirit  had  once  more  come  over  Richard  Crawford, 
perhaps  invoked  by  something  in  the  young  girl's  words ; 
and  she  saw  the  shadow  almost  as  soon  as  he  felt  it.  From 
that  moment  she  was  the  rattle-pate  again,  and  he  caught  no 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  323 

more  glimpses  into  the  sanctuary  of  her  inner  heart.  He 
was  to  catch  no  more,  forever ;  for  the  next  time  they  spoke 
together  in  private  was  after  certain  events  already  related 
had  occurred — after  her  hand  had  lain  in  another,  in  so  signifi- 
cant a  pressure  that  no  time  or  change  could  ever  take  away 
the  tingle  of  the  blood  which  it  communicated — after  her  eyes 
began  to  open  on  a  new  phase  of  destiny — and  after  "  Ever 
of  Thee"  ceased  to  be  a  sad  abstraction. 

Just  now  she  rattled  on,  as  she  assisted  the  invalid  back  to 
his  room,  endeavoring  to  rouse  his  once-more  sinking  spirits, 
with  all  her  old  gayety  and  abandon. 

"  You  call  me  brave,  do  you  ?"  she  said.  "  Dick  Craw- 
ford, if  I  was  not  a  little  ashamed  of  you  for  allowing  your- 
self to  have  these  fits  of  low  spirits,  I  would  tell  you  some- 
thing to  prove  how  'brave'  I  am!  Well,  I  will  tell  you, 
because  I  know  that  it  is  exceedingly  improper  and  T  ought 
not  to  do  so.     Two  or  three  weeks  ago,  spending  an  evening 

at  Mrs.  R 's,  her  daughters  showed  me  a  suit  of  clothes 

belonging  to  a  stripling  brother,  just  gone  away  to  the  war. 
One  of  them  bantered  me  to  put  on  the  suit  and  go  down- 
stairs among  the  gentlemen.  I  thought  it  would  be  a  good 
joke,  and  I  tried  it.  The  girls  said  that  I  made  a  very  hand- 
some boy — hem  !  and  I  suppose  that  I  did.  At  all  events,  I 
went  down-stairs  and  opened  the  parlor-door,  bold  as  a 
sheep,  when — what  do  you  think  happened  ?  Why,  I 
thought,  all  at  once,  that  all  the  clothes  were  sticking  tight 
to  my  limbs ;  and  when  one  of  the  gentlemen  came  towards 
me,  I  grabbed  the  cloth  from  the  centre-table  for  a  cloak,  and 
played  hob  with  some  Bohemian  glassware  and  a  few  Parian 
ornaments,  finishing  by  skedaddling  up-stairs  a  good  deal 
more  rapidly  than  I  came  down.  Was  not  there  '  courage' 
for  you  ?" 

"  Xo  want  of  it,  certainly,"  said  Crawford,  who  had  been 
laughing  a  little,  spite  of  his  low  spirits,  at  the  naivete  of 
the  relation.  "  It  was  modesty  and  not  want  of  personal 
courage  that  drove  you  out  of  that  very  funny  position." 

"  Think  so  ?"  said  the  wild  girl.  "  Then  as  I  am  a  coward 
and  mean  to  be  known  for  what  I  am,  I  must  tell  you  an- 
other story.     A  few  weeks  ago  I  went  into  a  menagerie,  and 


324  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

one  of  the  lions  made  a  rush  at  the  bar?  of  his  cage — proba- 
bly because  he  saw  me.  There  was  about  as  much  danger 
of  his  getting  out,  I  suppose,  as  there  would  have  been  of 
my  doing  so  in  the  same  circumstances  ;  but  of  course  I  made 
a  fool  of  myself,  got  frightened,  yelled,  and  had  all  the  visitors 
in  the  menagerie  looking  at  me.  How  was  that?  No  want 
of  courage  ?     Eh  ?" 

"  That,"  said  Kichard  Crawford,  sententiously,  "  that  was 
the  teaman." 

"  Humph  !"  said  Joe,  as  she  once  more  assisted  the  invalid 
to  dispose  himself  comfortably  on  his  usual  couch.  "  Xow 
you  will  not  agree  to  my  estimate  of  myself,  perhaps  you  will 
think  better  of  my  estimate  of  you.'''' 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Crawford.     "  Try  me." 

''Well,  then,  I  have  been  watching:  you  half  the  afternoon, 
and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  about  you  more  nearly  than 
ever  before." 

"  And  what  am  I  ?"  asked  Crawford,  with  just  a  dash  of 
impatience  in  his  tone. 

"A  hypochondriac  !"  said  Joe.  "You  are  a  little  sick, 
and  you  think  yourself  much  worse.  You  look  better  and 
feel  better  within  the  last  hour — " 

"Eh,  what  ?"  said  the  invalid,  startled  apparently  by  some 
sudden  thought  connected  with  the  words. 

"  I  sav  that  you  look  better  and  feel  better,  within  the  last 
hour,  than  you  have  done  for  weeks.  You  are  getting  better, 
and  you  have  neither  the  honesty  to  acknowledge  it  or  the 
grace  to  thank  God  for  it  !  Dick  Crawford,  if  you  ever  die 
— and  I  suppose  you  will,  some  time — you  will  commit  sui- 
cide by  taking  an  over-dose  of  low  spirits  !" 

How  flippantly  the  wild  girl  spoke  ! — and  yet  she  was 
right,  and  Dick  Crawford  felt  that  she  was  right.  The  sup- 
plying cause  of  his  malady  removed,  such  a  lecture,  from 
such  ready  lips,  was  precisely  the  thing  that  he  needed,  to 
break  up  the  habit  of  despondency — the  habit  of  enjoying  and 
nursing  suffering  (that  phrase  may  express  the  fact  as  well 
as  another)  which  settles  so  often  like  a  murky  cloud  upon 
the  minds  of  those  who  have  been  kept  for  weeks  or  months 
as  confirmed  invalids,  after  lives  of  previous  activity.      She 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  325 

was  right,  too,  as  to  the  suicide  of  low  spirits.  The  red 
devils  of  Pandemonium  may  be  terrible,  fresh  from  the  flames 
of  the  pit  ;  but  they  are  nothing  to  their  brothers  in  blue, 
who  people  the  air,  overcloud  the  eyes  and  set  up  torture- 
chambers  in  the  brain.  Bunyan,  in  that  ever-living  ''Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  paints  no  tyrant  so  terrible  as  "Giant  Despair, " 
and  no  obstruction  to  the  whs  so  fatally  impassable  as  the 
"  Slough  of  Despond."  And  we  have  never  read  over  the 
sorrowful  conclusion  of  the  "Bride  of  Lammermoor"  with- 
out believing  that  the  young  master  of  Kavenswood,  on  that 
sombre  November  morning,  sunk  the  sooner  and  the  more 
fatally  in  the  quicksands  of  the  Kelpie's  Flow,  from  the 
weight  of  the  leaden  heart  he  carried  in  his  bosom. 

Suddenly,  and  before  Richard  Crawford  had  quite  decided 
how  to  answer  her  last  remark,  Josephine  Harris  said,  as  if 
the  thought  had  only  that  instant  come  to  her : 

"  Oh,  Dick,  I  am  going  to  ask  a  favor,  in  return  for  my 
good  opinion.  The  carriage  is  in,  I  believe.  May  I  ring  for 
it,  for  an  hour  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Crawford.  Josephine  rung  the  bell,  and 
the  order  was  given. 

"  It  is  dusk,  you  see,"  said  the  3roung  girl,  apologetically, 
11  and  I  must  go  down  the  Avenue  before  I  go  home.  Many 
thanks.  Be  a  good  boy  and  take  care  of  yourself,  till  I  see 
you  again.  John  will  set  me  down  at  home  when  my  little 
errand  is  over.  Good  night !"  and  her  kiss  fell  warm  and  soft 
upon  his  forehead — a  sister's  kiss,  pure  and  unimpassioned, 
even  if  there  was  no  tie  of  blood  between  them. 

Bell  Crawford  came  down  stairs  and  sat  by  her  brother's 
side  when  she  heard  the  carriage  roll  away  with  her  friend. 
And  whither  did  that  carriage  roll  ?  Richard  Crawford  had 
no  idea  that  Joe's  "  little  errand"  could  possibly  have  any  con- 
nection with  himself;  and  yet  it  had — a  most  intimate  and 
important  connection,  as  will  be  perceived. 

The  coachman,  at  her  request,  drove  out  to  Fifth  Avenue, 
then  down  that  avenue  to  Tenth  Street,  where  he  opened  the 
door  and  set  her  down,  receiving  orders  to  wait  there  for  her 
return.  The  young  girl  tripped  up  from  the  corner,  a  few 
doors  on  the  left  hand  side,  past  a  church,  and  entered  the 


326  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

front-yard  railing  of  one  of  two  or  three  unpretending  three- 
story  brick-houses  standing  together.  It  was  now  past  dusk 
and  the  street-lamps  were  lighted;  and  looking  in  at  the 
basement  windows  of  this  house,  Joe  saw  that  no  curtains 
were  drawn,  that  the  gas  was  burning  within,  over  a  table 
and  under  a  shade ;  and  that  at  the  table  sat  a  man  with  head 
bent  down  and  fingers  busy  at  some  kind  of  mechanical  con- 
trivance. 

"  That  will  do,"  she  muttered  to  herself.  "  The  Doctor  is 
in,  as  I  believed  he  might  be  at  this  hour,  and  I  shall  have  no 
occasion  to  disturb  the  people  up-stairs." 

Passing  under  the  steps  she  reached  the  closed  door,  and 
instead  of  ringing,  banged  half  a  dozen  times  against  the 
panels  with  her  hand,  very  slowly  and  tragically,  as  the 
ghost  in  "  Don  Giovanni1'  might  ask  to  be  admitted,  provided 
it  had  any  occasion  for  using  the  door.  Immediately  there 
was  a  shuffle  inside,  and  directly  the  door  opened  and  a  tall 
figure  stood  in  the  doorway.  There  was  enough  light  from 
the  street-lamp  to  make  the  young  girl's  face  and  figure  pretty 
plainly  visible,  and  the  moment  he  saw  her  the  occupant  said  : 

"  I  thought  so — mischief!  I  thought  I  knew  that  knock  ! 
No  one  else  ever  takes  such  liberties  with  my  office-door. 
What  do  you  want  now  ?  But  come  in,  before  you  forget 
it I"  and  seizing  both  her  hands  with  a  playful  gesture,  he 
dragged  her  within  the  door,  closed  it,  pulled  her  through 
the  side-door  into  the  front  basement  which  formed  the  office, 
drew  up  a  clumsy  cushioned  operating-chair  near  the  table, 
sat  her  down  in  it,  then  cast  himself  into  a  chair  immediately 
in  front  of  her,  threw  one  leg  over  the  other  and  his  hands 
behind  his  head,  and  said  : 

"  Xow  I  am  resigned  and  prepared.     Out  with  it  I" 

Had  Josephine  Harris  not  been  familiar  with  the  place  and 
its  occupant,  as  it  was  quite  evident  that  she  was,  she  would 
have  looked  twice  at  the  one  and  several  times  at  the  other. 
That  little  basement-room  was  not  only  the  office  in  which 
Doctor  LaTurque  received  professional  calls,  but  it  was  also 
the  sanctum  in  which  were  prepared  most  of  the  oddly- 
trenchant  articles  in  the  Scimetar,  a  quarterly  medical  and 
critical  publication  with  a  habit  cutting  as  its  name  and  a 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  327 

reputation  dangerous  enough  to  suit  the  most  sensational 
fancy.  Few  persons  connected  with  the  practice  of  medicine 
in  or  about  the  great  city,  who  had  not  first  or  last  suffered 
some  incision  from  the  trenchant  blade  of  the  Scimetar, 
welded  by  the  w,ry  arm  of  the  Doctor;  and  few  humbugs 
M  he  hau  pricked  and  exposed,  by  the  same  means  or  in 
personal  conversation,  while  he  was  himself  the  neatest 
humbug  of  all.  Others  habitually  humbugged  others-  he 
humbugged  lumsclf,  or  tried  to  do  so,  insisting  to  himself  thai 

evervH  tw  nmn'  °n  ir°n  man'  a  brute>  a  skeP«e,  ami 
even  thmg  that  was  ugly  and  detestable ;  while  in  fact  he  had 
the  warm  heart  of  an  unspoiled  child,  and  a  faith  in  everv- 
thing  good,  that  was  really  part  of  his  being-all  combined 
with  the  vigor  of  the  experienced  surgeon  an!  the  cCst  ! 
of  the  untiring  student.  He  used  hard  worde-rough  ones 
somefmes  and  tried  to  make  himself  believe  that  they  Veo 

wordT,  T  °f  ?  tard  disP°si«»;  while  every 'rough 
word  was  really  made,  under  protest  from  his  nature/and  few 
men  on    he  whole  earth  were  more  ready  to  do  an  act  of 

STLS^T    ?  "  "0t  f01'  "S  t0  Sa^hat  *™  w.    no 
iXne      ?  7      a?6Ctati0n   °f   sin^'™ty  underlying  his 
manner ;  for  he  evidently  loved  notice  if  not  notoriety  •   and 

the  TrT^pT  th?Vhite  C°at  a,Kl  ^arranged  trowlers  o 

«?ssrh" have  sometimes  be-  -*-  *  - 

Certainly  Dr.  LaTurque  was  not  remarkably  choice  in  the 
style  of  ma  "den,"  if  he  had  handsomely  furnished  apa 
ments  in    he  house  above,  and  if  his  windows  «tf  ,oo    lt 

the  M\  '     Th6  CdIingS  W°re   l0w>  th«  "&  Plain, 

the  furniture  was  very  common,  and  yet  a  little  odd  as  be 

came    he  place      The  floor  was  oil-clothed  :  a  table    overed 
Mb  dark  cloth  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room;  an  old 
fashioned  secretary,  with  books  piled  on  either  end    stood 
agains    the  wall  on  the  right  as  ti,e  visitor  entered    w  ha 
globe  hall  hidden  behind  it;  on  the  wall  opposite  W   he 
Prmt  of  a  muscular  Apollo  (muscular,  beca  .  e  i    w        r, 
anatomically   with  no  flesh  coring  the  interments       , 
e.  her  end  of  the  mantel  stood  a  snfall  statue f£X  LZ 
v>as  an  impudent  placard  of  bronze   on  jap  nned    in    an 


323  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

nouncing  that  no  complimentary  visits  could  possibly  be  re- 
ceived in  that  room,  while  the  occupant,  if  there,  was  ready 
to  falsify  the  announcement  at  any  moment ;  on  a  small  table 
between  the  windows,  under  a  glass  globe,  lay  the  cast  in 
plaster  of  a  marvellously  handsome  male  Italian  face ;  two  or 
three  small  pictures,  commonly  framed,  hung  over  secretary 
and  mantel;  in  the  corner  between  the  mantel  and  the  win- 
dow stood  a  stuffed  eagle  on  a  low  table  covered  with  the 
suggestive  appliances  of  a  fractured  leg ;  and  just  behind  it, 
on  a  bit  of  rug,  nestled  a  disabled  pigeon  from  his  pet  flock 
on  the  roof,  that  had  come  down,  with  excellent  judgment,  to 
be  nursed  and  tended  by  the  surgeon. 

In  the  midst  of  this  odd  assemblage  Dr.  LaTurque  was  him- 
self not  by  any  means  the  least  remarkable  object.  He  was  ion 
tainly  a  singular-looking  man,  and  had  a  fancy  (or  pretended 
to  have  a  fancy)  that  he  was  a  very  homely  one.  He  was  not 
so,  however,  to  any  eye  of  taste — only  striking.  In  figure 
he  was  tall  and  rather  thin,  but  the  same  epithet  we  have 
applied  to  his  arm  may  be  used  for  the  whole  man — iciry. 
He  seemed  capable  of  strong  nervous  effort  and  of  great  en- 
durance ;  and  one  could  see  that  something  more  than  fifty 
years  had  not  diminished  the  locomotive  will  or  power.  In 
the  too  large  and  too  aquiline  nose  (literally  a  beak) — in  the 
iron-gray  moustache,  imperial,  and  heavy  brown  hair — in  the 
thin  cheeks  and  keen  gray  eye, — there  was  a  marvellous  re- 
minder of  the  portraits  of  Louis  Napoleon,  and  at  the  same 
time  another  and  a  stronger  suggestion.  There  is  no  close 
observer  of  physiognomy  but  has  remarked  bird,  beast  and 
even  reptile  reproduced  in  the  faces  of  different  men — one 
being  a  human  lion,  another  a  human  bear,  a  third  a  human 
hyena,  and  still  a  fourth  a  human  serpent.  It  scarcely  seemed 
that  it  could  have  been  by  chance  that  the  gray  eagle  stood 
stuffed  in  the  corner ;  for  the  observer  just  as  naturally  de- 
tected the  eagle  in  that  human  face,  as  he  could  ever  have 
detected  either  of  the  others  named,  in  different  physiog- 
nomies, and  the  dead  bird  seemed  the  totem  of  the  living 
man. 

"  Well,  battle  and  murder  and  sudden  death  !"  said  the  med- 
ical Laurence  Boythorn,  when  he  had  forced  the  young  girl 


SHO  U  LDEK-  STRAPS.  S2(J 

down  into  a  seat.  "  What  is  it  you  want  ?  Who  is  married 
or  dead,  or  whom  do  you  intend  to  kill,  or  what  is  it  ?" 

"Are  you  sober  V  asked  the  young  girl,  looking  into  his 
eyes  very  gravely. 

"  Why,  you  impudent  demon  in  petticoats !"  said  the 
Doctor,  with  a  great  appearance  of  indignation.  "What 
do  you  mean  ?  You  know  that  I  am  never  otherwise  than 
sober." 

"  From  the  effects  of  liquor,  of  course  not,"  was  the  reply. 
"  But  your  hot  head,  like  mine,  has  the  capacity  of  becoming 
intoxicated  sometimes  without  any  thanks  to  liquor ;  and  I 
want  to  know  whether  you  are  cool  and  clear,  or  whether  you 
have  been  puzzling  over  some  bad  case,  or  talking  with  some 
man  with  a  stupid  skull,  until  your  head  is  all  muddled  ?" 

"  Clear  as  one  of  the  mountain  springs  that  you  are  some 
day  going  with  me  to  see,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  Now  out  with 
it." 

"Well,"  said  Joe,  "I  know  that  you  hate  chemistry,  but 
in  spite  of  that  you  must  give  me  a  little  chemical  judgment. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me,"  and  she  took  out  the  surreptitiously- 
obtained  roll  of  linen,  unrolled  it  and  laid  it  upon  the  table, 
under  the  full  light  of  the  burner — "  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
what  is  that  dark  substance  which  looks  like  black  paste,  whe- 
ther it  is  animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral,  and  what  you  think  its 
properties." 

"And  after  I  do  tell  you,  if  I  can,"  said  the  Doctor,  eyeing 
the  suspicious-looking  mass,  "  I  suppose  that  I  am  to  be  told 
why  you  wish  to  know  ?" 

"  Not  one  word,"  said  Joe.  "At  least,  not  at  present.  All 
your  reward  is  to  be  the  honor  of  conversing  with  me  on  the 
subject." 

"Bravo,  Empress  ;  I  rather  like  that!"  said  the  Doctor,  who 
did  like  it,  nevertheless,  to  judge  by  the  jolly  expression  of 
his  face.  "You  are  a  refreshing  young  woman,  and  some 
day  I  expect  to  see  you  stretch  out  your  arm  with  imperial 
dignity  and  clear  off  all  the  pigmies  from  the  face  of  the  earth 
with  a  '  Go  away,  small  people  !  I  have  had  enough  of  you  ! 
You  may  leave  !'  " 

"Very  likely,"  said  Joe.      "But  meanwhile  I  have  not 


330  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

quite  done  with  you.  Please  examine  that  stuff,  for  I  am  in 
a  hurry." 

"As  usual  !''  commented  the  Doctor,  going  on  to  smell,  in- 
spect, and  even  taste  the  dark  compound  on  the  cloth. 

"Take  care!''  cried  the  young  girl,  in  alarm,  when  she  saw 
him  apply  his  tongue  to  the  substance. 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  the  Doctor.  "  Don't  be  alarmed.  I  am  so 
full  of  dangerous  ingredients  myself,  that  the  most  virulent  of 
poisons  could  not  produce  any  effect  on  me." 

"  I  should  not  like  to  see  you  trust  it  too  far — that  is,  not 
if  I  cared  for  you  !"  said  the  lady,  as  if  she  had  been  the  che- 
mist and  he  the  neophyte. 

"Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  after  a  moment's  pause  and  a  still 
closer  inspection,  "you  will  give  me  no  particulars,  and  so  I 
shall  give  you  none.  I  suppose  the  main  fact  is  what  you 
want  to  know.  The  substance  is  a  little  dried,  and  conse- 
quently it  has  lost  some  of  its  aroma.  But  my  impression  is 
that  it  is  a  very  powerful  vegetable  poison,  compounded  from 
certain  simples  that  grow  along  running  streams  in  the 
tropics,  and  especially  in  some  of  the  West  Indies." 

"I  thought  so  !"  said  Joe,  almost  involuntarily,  and  an  un- 
mistakeable  gleam  of  pleasure  lighting  up  her  face.  "  But 
would  that  poison  produce  any  effect  if  applied  outwardly  l''1 

"  I  should  think  so,"  replied  the  Doctor,  "though,  as  you  say, 
I  hate  chemistry.  I  should  think  that  substance,  applied  to 
any  vital  part  of  the  body,  and  kept  there  continuously,  would 
produce  racking  pains  and  weakness,  and  be  very  likely  to 
result  in  a  disease  resembling  inflammatory  rheumatism,  or 
possibly  paralysis,  and  death." 

"  Thank  you — thank  you  a  dozen  times,"  said  Joe,  spring- 
ing up  and  grasping  the  Doctor  very  warmly  by  the  hand. 
"You  do  not  know  how  much  good  you  maybe  doing  by 
this  examination  ;  but  you  shall  know,  sometime — I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  And  now  good-night !"  rolling  up  the  pack- 
age and  putting  it  back  into  her  pocket.  "  My  time  is  up, 
Mother  will  be  worried  about  me,  and  I  have  a  borrowed  car- 
riage waiting  at  the  corner." 

"Allow  me  to  see  you  to  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  rising  with 
quick  courtesy. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  331 

"  No  farther  than  the  gate,  for  the  world,"  said  the  young 
girl.  "  For  certain  reasons,  which  you  shall  know  some  time, 
I  must  not  be  seen  in  your  company  to-night,  even  by  the 
coachman." 

She  tripped  away  instantly,  the  Doctor  accompanying  her 
to  the  gate, — and  rolled  away  homeward  at  once.  What  a 
day  that  had  been  to  her!  And  in  what  a  whirl  was  her 
brain  when  she  reflected  on  all  she  had  discovered  and  tried 
to  arrange  in  her  own  mind  the  details  of  what  she  yet  felt  it 
necessary  to  do  !  It  was  within  forty-eight  hours  after,  and 
when  her  mind  had  not  become  at  all  calmed  from  the  thoughts 
of  the  crime  surrounding  her  and  those  she  loved,  that  the 
visit  to  the  sorceress  was  made,  as  before  recorded.  How 
much  of  additional  information  she  may  really  have  expected 
to  gain  from  the  sorceress,  it  is  impossible  to  say, — or  whether 
this  matter  of  the  attempted  poisoning  was  really  the  matter 
which  sent  her  to  that  questionable  fountain  of  intelligence  ; 
but  it  is  not  at  all  strange  that  she  should  have  blended  the 
terrors  of  the  real  and  the  imaginary  together,  and  been 
powerfully  impressed  by  the  events  of  that  day  which  marked 
so  important  an  era  in  her  existence. 

It  may  be  said  here,  that  two  days  after  the  events  just 
narrated,  when  Bell  accompanied  her  to  the  sorceress,  she  did 
not  see  Richard  Crawford.  Thereafter,  for  many  days,  she 
did  not  visit  the  house  at  all,  for  reasons  that  will  soon  make 
themselves  manifest ;  and  consequently  the  awkwardness  of 
any  meeting  with  the  invalid,  which  might  have  involved 
questions  she  did  not  care  to  answer  at  that  moment,  was 
avoided.  Joe  Harris  felt  that  for  once  in  her  life  she  had  a 
"mission." — something  to  do,  and  to  do  in  her  own  way;  and 
until  that  work  was  done,  or  she  had  utterly  failed  in  the 
attempt,  she  did  not  mean  to  let  that  chattering  tongue  of 
hers  say  one  word  that  could  give  a  clue  to  her  thoughts  or 
intentions.  "VVe  shall  see,  presently,  how  nearly  and  in  what 
manner  her  plans  were  carried  out. 

21 


dS2  SHO  UL  DER-STK  A  PS. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

A  Little  Arrangement  between   Tom  Leslie  and  Jes 
Harris — Up  the    Hudson-River   Road — A   Detention 

and  a  Recognition — Going  to  West  Falls,  and  a  Peep 
at  the  halstead  homestead. 

There  are  some  things  too  sacred  to  be  pryed  into,  and 
there  are  some  things  too  difficult  to  make  any  progress  in 
that  attempt,  even  when  the  effort  is  made  with  the  most  de- 
termined will.  Both  these  conditions  will  to  some  extent 
apply  to  the  intimacy  between  Tom  Leslie  and  Josephine 
Harris,  which  commenced  on  a  day  we  well  remember,  and 
which  may  not  close  until  their  joint  destiny  is  accomplished. 
The  very  next  day  after  that  adventure,  he  called  at  the  house 
of  Mrs.  Harris,  was  introduced  to  her  with  great  empresse- 
ment  by  her  daughter,  and  received  by  her  with  great  cor- 
diality. The  good  lady,  whom  we  have  no  intention  what- 
ever of  describing,  was  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  widowed 
matron  in  comfortable  circumstances,  with  just  enough  threads 
of  silver  shining  amid  her  dark  hair,  to  make  her  matron- 
hood  sacred  and  all  the  more  loveable.  That  she,  who  was 
not  always  pleased  with  a  new-comer,  chanced  to  like  him 
from  the  first,  completed  the  vanquishment  of  the  journalist, 
if  that  object  had  not  before  been  entirely  accomplished  ;  and 
within  an  hour  after  setting  foot  within  that  comfortable  little 
home  the  young  man  felt  that  it  had  become  dearer  to  him 
than  any  other  building  of  bricks  and  mortar  into  which  he 
had  ever  entered. 

So  of  the  confidence  which  at  once  began  to  exist  between 
the  two  lovers.  Yes — let  the  word  be  set  down — lovers. 
When  Josephine  Harris  accompanied  Tom  Leslie  to  the  door, 
on  the  night  of  his  first  visit  to  her  at  home,  he  held  out  his 
arms  to  her,  without  a  word,  and  she  nestled  into  them  in  the 
same  silence,  and  returned  the  first  kiss  he  pressed  upon  her 
lips.  Thenceforth  their  lips,  we  may  believe,  belonged  exclu- 
sively to  neither,  but  had  a  divided  interest      What  matter, 


SIIO  U  LDEK-STEAPS.  333 

thereafter,  how  many  times  they  were  pressed  together,  or 
how  long  that  pressure  lingered  ?  What  matter  how  many 
words  they  spoke,  or  what  formed  the  burden  of  those  words  ? 
They  had  accidentally  touched,  when  drifting  clown  the  stream 
of  life,  and  who  should  thenceforth  have  power  to  separate 
them  ?  A  month  before,  Tom  Leslie,  who  had  had  fifty  flirta- 
tions or  less,  would  have  laughed  at  the  idea  of  being  "  in 
love,"  with  what  seemed  like  a  life-passion ;  and  even  three 
days  before  Josephine  Harris  would  have  considered  such  an 
event,  on  her  part,  not  undesirable,  but  simply  impossible. 
So  much  for  what  we  know,  to-day,  of  that  which  is  to  exist 
to-morrow,  even  in  the  "best-regulated  families  I" 

It  was  on  the  third  visit  paid  to  the  house  by  Leslie,  that 
Josephine  communicated  to  him  her  intention  to  be  absent 
from  the  city  for  a  week  or  ten  days,  visiting  some  friends  in 
one  of  the  country  sections  reached  by  the  New  York  Cen- 
tral Railroad  ;  after  which  she  was  again  to  return  to  the 
city  and  accompany  her  mother,  late  in  July,  on  her  annual 
pilgrimage  to  the  Ocean  House  at  Newport.  She  would 
leave  for  the  north  on  one  of  the  first  days  of  July — perhaps 
the  Third  or  the  Fourth.  Strangely  enough,  Leslie  had  ar- 
ranged to  go  to  Niagara  for  a  few  days,  at  about  the  same 
time,  and  he  suddenly  found  it  a  matter  of  no  consequence 
that  he  should  go  by  the  Erie  Road,  as  he  had  at  first  in- 
tended. Subsequent  inquiries  proved  that  the  young  girl 
would  go  unattended,  and  leave  the  railroad  at  Utica,  taking 
stage  for  the  short  remainder  of  her  journey.  Leslie  felt  it 
almost  a  matter  of  inexcusable  impudence,  after  so  short  an 
acquaintance,  to  ask  the  favor  of  timing  his  journey  by  hers 
and  being  her  escort  so  far  as  Utica ;  but  he  dared  the  risk, 
as  he  had  dared  many  a  risk  before,  from  things  quite  as 
deadly  as  woman's  eyes ;  and  he  did  not  meet  even  one  ob- 
jection or  expression  of  embarrassment.  Josephine  Harris 
accepted  his  escort  as  freely  as  offered,  and  seemed  rather 
pleased  than  otherwise  !  How  absurd,  and  in  fact  how  im- 
proper !  She  should  have  blushed,  simpered,  and  hinted 
that  she  would  be  very  much  pleased  with  his  escort — but — 
so  short  an  acquaintance — all  her  friends  would  know  it — 
what  would  people  say  ? — etc.,  etc.     Joe  Harris  did  not  un« 


834  SHOULDER-STRAPS 

derstand  all  these  things,  exactly ;  but  the  next  woman  would 
have  acted  out  that  role  to  perfection. 

Not  to  linger  over  these  details,  Mamma  Harris  not  object- 
ing, they  left  the  city  of  Xew  York  by  the  five  o'clock  train 
on  the  Hudson  River  Railroad,  on  the  evening  of  the  Fourth 
of  July,  just  when  the  city  was  sweltering  in  its  most  deadly 
heat  and  all  ablaze  with  patriotic  fireworks.  Leslie  had  cer- 
tain patrio-political  engagements  which  occupied  him  until 
after  noon  on  that  day,  rendering  it  impossible  to  leave  by 
the  morning  train.  Leaving  by  that  at  five  o'clock,  they 
would  connect  with  the  train  on  the  Xew  York  Central  leav- 
ing Albany  at  midnight,  and  reach  Utica  very  early  in  the 
morning.  There  Josephine  would  be  set  down,  while  Les- 
lie, after  seeing  to  her  stage  accommodation,  would  whirl  on- 
ward with  the  train,  for  Niagara. 

The  connection  between  love  and  railroad-riding  may  not 
be  obvious  to  all ;  and  there  are  some,  no  doubt,  who  think 
the  flying  speed  of  the  modern  conveyance  terribly  unro- 
mantic.  But  there  are  others  who  know  of  nothing  more 
thoroughly  pleasant  than  lounging  back  easily  in  the  cushioned 
seat  of  a  railway-carriage,  with  the  one  close  beside,  with 
one  hand  in  reach  at  any  moment,  the  one  face  ready  to  reply 
in  smiles  to  the  look  of  pleasure  given,  and  the  one  head 
ready  to  repose  upon  the  shoulder  when  night  comes  on  or 
the  continued  motion  of  the  train  brings  on  drowsiness.  Of 
the  latter  class  were  both  Tom  Leslie  and  Joe  Harris,  both 
of  whom  had  travelled  much,  though  very  differently,  and 
neither  of  whom  had  ever  before  experienced  the  luxury  of 
the  one  peculiar  companionship.  They  may  ride  far  and  see 
X  attire  in  her  most  wonderful  phases,  in  other  days  ;  but  it 
is  doubtful  whether  either  will  ever  experience  a  greater 
pleasure  than  that  of  sitting  by  the  side  of  the  other,  on  that 
July  afternoon,  conscious  that  they  were  together,  and  of 
very  little  else,  but  dimly  aware,  too,  that  they  were  sweep- 
ing away  from  the  hot  and  dusty  city,  with  its  thousands  of 
sweltering  inhabitants,  and  flying  through  green  woods, 
among  towering  hills  and  beside  flashing  waters. 

It  is  not  more  true  that  "  man  proposes  but  God  disposes," 
of  any  other  series  of  events  in  life  than  railroad  connections. 


SKOU  L  I)  E  H-STRA  P  S.  335 

That  Albany  express-train  on  tne  Hudson-River  Road,  dashed 
merrily  on  for  the  Highlands,  meeting  excursion-trains  pass- 
ing backwards  and  forwards  between  the  various  towns  on 
the  line,  all  decked  with  flags  and  evergreens,  and  the  pas- 
sengers in  all  waving  flags  and  shouting  out  their  patriotic 
merriment.  Already  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson  were 
rising  close  before  them,  with  the  westering  sun  sinking  low 
and  casting  broad  shadows  from  their  tops  over  the  quiet 
river,_when  suddenly,  a  little  below  Peekskill,  the  train 
came  to  a  halt,  without  any  station  appearing  in  view. 

"  What  is  the  matter  V>  asked  some  of  the  passengers,  after 
the  halt  had  been  prolonged  a  few  minutes.  "  Have  we  met 
with  any  accident  ?"  asked  others  when  that  halt  was  longer 
protracted  ;  and  "Are  we  ?iever  going  to  get  on  ?»  asked&all 
parties  together,  when  the  delay  lengthened  to  more  than 
half  an  hour  and  there  appeared  to  be  no  signs  of  starting. 

Finally,  when  more  than  the  half  hour  had  elapsed,  a  brake- 
man  satisfied  the  eager  inquiries  of  the  passengers  by  the  in- 
formation that  a  coal-schooner  had  attempted  to  pass  through 
the  draw-bridge  half  a  mile  above  Peekskill,  when  the  tide 
was  too  far  spent— that  she  had  managed  to  get  aground  in 
the  draw-bridge,  immediately  across  the  track— and  that, 
consequently,  no  train  could  possibly  pass  until  the  tide  rose 
again  and  released  the  unfortunate  boat,  well  along  towards 
midnight !  Here  was  a  pleasant  predicament,  especially  for 
those  who,  like  our  travellers,  had  connections  to  make  at 
Albany  for  the  North  and  West ;  and  yet,  to  their  credit  be 
it  said,  that  particular  couple  bore  the  delay  with  wonderful 
equanimity  !  It  is  just  possible  that  both  remembered  that 
they  would  be  together  a  few  hours  longer  on  account  of  the 
accident,  and  that  they  were  prepared  to  endure  even  a  longer 
forced  companionship  ! 

At  last  the  train  moved  on,  but  slowly,  through  the  village 
of  Peekskill,  and  reached  the  little  creek,  under  the  very  edge 
of  the  Highlands,  where  the  accident  had  occurred.  The 
scene  was  certainly  a  picturesque  one,  with  the  grounded 
boat,  the  swung  draw-bridge,  the  men  laboring  to  lighter-off 
the  vessel  by  unloading  the  coal,  the  passengers  crowding  and 
swarming  from  the  cars,  the  setting  sun  over  the  noble  head- 


33G  SIIOULT.  Eli-STRATS. 

lands  to  the  West,  and  the  placid  river  coming  out  from  the 
dark  shadow  of  the  Highlands  and  sweeping  grandly  down  to 
HaverStraw  Bay. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  all  the  passengers  by  the  np- 
train  should  disembark  and  cross  the  long-  bridge  over  the 
estuary,  on  the  narrow  strips  of  plank  temporarily  laid  down 
for  that  purpose,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  take  the  next  down- 
train  from  Albany,  the  moment  it  arrived,  and  go  back  with 
it ; — while  the  passengers  by  the  down-train  would  cross  in 
the  same  manner  and  run  back  with  the  up-train  towards 
New  York ; — thus  saving  what  would  otherwise  be  hours  of 
additional  detention.  Then  streamed  across  those  planks  a 
most  picturesque  line  of  pedestrians,  sturdy  men  and  timid 
women,  each  a  little  afraid  of  so  narrow  a  footing  over  the 
water,  some  of  the  women  nervous  and  screaming  a  little, 
and  some  of  the  men  quite  as  cowardly  but  much  more; 
ashamed  to  acknowledge  the  feeling.  The  novelty  of  the 
picture  was  materially  added  to,  meanwhile,  by  the  fact  that 
nearly  every  male  passenger  was  loaded  like  a  pack-horse 
with  baggage,  and  the  ladies  with  shawls,  parasols  and  bun- 
dles,— and  that  all,  when  they  reached  the  neck  of  land  at 
the  end  of  the  bridge,  squatted  down  miscellaneously  on  the 
dry  grass  and  among  the  wood  and  timber,  like  so  many 
Arabs  making  a  noon  encampment. 

"  Oh,  isn't  this  jolly  I"  exclaimed  Joe  Harris,  as  Tom  Lesn'e 
was  leading  her  over  the  line  of  plank,  when  they  were  about 
half  way  across,  and  when,  from  the  instability  of  a  part  of 
the  structure,  there  seemed  a  fair  prospect  of  taking  a  duck 
in  the  river.  * 

"  Bravo,  little  girl !"  said  Tom  Leslie,  in  reply.  "  That  is 
the  way  to  take  detention  and  disappointment  in  travelling  ; 
and  after  that  expression  I  would  bet  on  you  for  ascending 
Mont  Blanc  or  living  on  a  raft."  Such  little  events,  to  close 
observers,  sometimes  furnish  keys  to  the  capabilities  of 
whole  characters. 

"You  compliment  me,"  said  the  young  girl,  "but  there  is 
really  nothing  to  compliment  me  about.  I  am  not  enduring, 
but  enjoying.  Look  out ! — there  I  go  !  Xo  I  don't !"  as  she 
partially  lost  her  balance  and  then  recovered  it.     "Why  we 


S  H  0  U  L  1)  E  Ii  -  S  T  R  A  P  S.  337 

should  have  lost  all  this,  but  for  the  accident ;  and  probably 
nothing  in  our  whole  ride  could  have  compensated  it." 

"It  is  indeed  a  striking  scene,"  said  Leslie,  his  quick  ap- 
preciation of  the  beautiful  actively  brought  into  play,  as  they 
landed  safely  on  the  sward  at  the  end  of  the  bridge.  "  See 
the  dusky  shadows  creeping  over  the  Ilighlands,  yonder,  and 
their  still  duskier  shadows  in  the  still  water.  See  the  orange 
and  pink  of  the  sunset  sky,  reaching  half  way  to  the  zenith, 
and  that  quarter  moon  dividing  the  sunset  colors  from  the 
dark  blue  beyond,  like  a  sentinel.  Then  see  that  steamboat 
creeping  close  in  under  the  shadow  of  the  land,  as  if  she  was 
trying  to  steal  by  unobserved.  And  then  yonder,  that  smelt- 
ing furnace  perched  on  one  of  the  hills,  throwing  out  its 
gleams  of  molten  metal,  with  their  glowing  reflection  in  the 
little  creek.  And  last,  not  least,  Peekskill  lying  across  tho 
cove  yonder,  with  its  Independence  flags  still  flying,  those  un- 
timely rockets  going  up,  boats  with  singing  parties  putting  off 
from  the  shore,  and  the  music  of  the  band  coming  over  the 
water  just  softly  enough  to  make  an  undertone  for  the  feeling 
of  the  place  and  the  hour." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  picture  worth  remembering,"  said  Jo- 
sephine, "  and  the  more  so  after  you  have  so  graphically  de- 
scribed it."  But  suddenly,  and  without  any  perceptible 
reason,  at  that  moment  the  }roung  girl  pulled  away  from  his 
arm,  on  which  she  had  been  leaning,  flung  down  the  light 
veil  of  her  bonnet,  stepped  away  a  few  paces,  and  turned  her 
face  towards  the  river.  Leslie  looked  around  to  see  what 
could  have  caused  the  movement,  but  saw  nothing  except  a 
few  of  the  last  passengers  leaving  the  planks,  and  among 
them  a  military  officer  in  full  colonel's  uniform,  whose  face 
he  did  not  recognize.  He  saw  that  the  officer  passed  on, 
farther  up  the  railroad-track;  and  the  moment  after,  slightly 
turning  her  head,  but  very  warily,  the  young  girl  appeared  to 
be  beckoning  to  him.  He  stepped  towards  her  at  once,  and 
turning  her  head  once  more  towards  the  river  and  the  west- 
ern skies,  she  said  : 

"Excuse  my  strange  behaviour;  I  know  that  you  will  do 
so  when  you  understand  my  reasons — no,  you  cannot  un- 
derstand them  all,  at  least  just  now — but  part  of  them.     I 


338  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

dare  not  turn  around  my  head,  for  fear  of  being  recognized. 
You  saw  an  officer  coming  off  the  bridge  just  now.  Did  you 
know  him  ?" 

"  Xo,  I  did  not,"  answered  Leslie,  and  it  must  be  confessed 
that  he  wished  to  add,  though  he  did  not  do  so,  "But  what 
the  deuce  is  the  mystery  in  your  young  life,  that  you  are 
obliged  to  shun  recognition  in  this  manner  ?" 

Josephine  Harris,  from  the  position  in  which  she  stood, 
could  not  clearly  see  his  face,  and  she  was  consequently  spared 
his  look  of  surprise,  almost  of  pain,  which  was  momentary. 
The  instant  after,  she  asked  : 

"Is  he  here  still  ?     Is  he  close  by  us  ?" 

"Xo,"  said  Leslie,  looking  around,  "he  has  passed  up  the 
track  some  distance.     But  tell  me — what  can  be  the  matter  ?" 

"  I  know  you.  must  think  it  odd,"  said  the  young  girl,  turn- 
ing her  face  around  towards  Leslie,  now  that  she  knew  the 
officer  was  not  near  thein.  "  Xot  only  odd,  but  a  little  sus- 
picious. But  a  few  words  will  explain  all  that  it  is  either  ne- 
cessary or  proper  for  me  to  say  in  this  place.  Keep  an  eye 
on  that  man,  please,  and  if  you  see  him  coming  this  way  again, 
let  me  know.  That  officer  is  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford,  of 
whom  you  may  have  heard. " 

"I  think  I  have  heard  the  name,  through  the  newspapers. 
Getting  up  a  bogus  regiment,  or  something  of  that  kind,  isn't 
he  ?"  asked  Leslie.  "Any  relation  to  Miss  Bell,  who  accom- 
panied us  the  other  day  on  that — that  expedition  ?" 

"Which  you  regard  as  among  the  most  foolish  things  of 
your  life  ?  Eh,  Mr.  Leslie  ?"  asked  Joe,  with  a  little  mischief 
in  her  tone. 

"Which  I  regard  as  one  of  the  most  fortunate  events  in  my 
whole  existence,"  said  the  young  journalist,  managing  to  touch 
her  hand  at  the  same  time.  She  appeared  to  understand  the 
words  and  the  gesture,  and  went  on  with  the  explanation  that 
had  been  interrupted. 

"  lie  is  a  cousin  of  Miss  Bell  Crawford,  and  very  intimate 
in  the  family.  I  have  met  him  very  often,  and  he  would  re- 
cognize me  in  a  moment  if  he  should  see  my  face.  If  he 
should  do  so,  probably  the  great  object  of  my  visit  tc  the 
Xorth  would  be  prevented." 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  339 

"And  that  is — "  began  Leslie. 

"  Precisely  what  1  cannot  tell  you,  until  I  know  more  of 
the  matter  myself,  because  I  have  no  right  to  take  liberties 
with  the  characters  of  others.  Would  you  have  thought  me 
so  prudent  ?"  concluded  the  young  girl. 

" 1  do  not  now  need  to  learn  for  the  first  time,"  answered 
Leslie,  "that  those  whom  the  world  calls  '  rattle-brains ' — and 
I  am  sure  they  call  you  one, — have  sometimes  plenty  of  fore- 
thought and  a  good  deal  of  prudence." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Josephine,  and  no  doubt  she  did  thank 
him,  from  her  soul.  For  the  rarest  flattery  is  of  course  the 
sweetest,  and  poor  wild  Joe  was  in  the  habit  of  being  oftener 
complimented  for  any  thing  else  rather  than  that  terrible  qual- 
ity "forethought." 

"  But  I  may  tell  you,"  the  young  girl  resumed,  "  that  I  have 
very  grave  suspicions  of  that  man's  honesty,  in  some  of  his 
dealings  with  the  Crawfords,  who  are  my  very  dear  friends ; 
and  I  am  going  to  unsex  myself,  I  suppose,  in  your  mind,  by 
acknowledging  that  I  am  playing  the  part  of  a  detective,  en 
amateur,  for  a  few  days." 

"Xot  a  particle  unsexed,"  said  Leslie,  rubbing  a  match  on 
his  boot-sole  and  preparing  to  desecrate  the  sweet  air  of  eve- 
ning with  cigar-smoke.     "Go  on,  please." 

"  Well,"  said  Joe,  "  if  I  do  not  mistake,  Col.  Egbert  Craw- 
ford and  myself  are  going  to  the  very  same  place — at  least  to 
houses  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  apart ;  and  if  he  should  know 
of  my  presence  in  the  neighborhood  all  my  researches  might 
be  blocked.     Do  you  see  ?" 

"  I  see,"  said  Leslie,  though  how  he  could  see  through  that 
cloud  of  cigar-smoke,  was  a  little  unaccountable. 

"That  is  why  I  turned  away  and  dropped  my  veil,"  the 
young  girl  went  on.  "And  now  I  am  under  the  necessity  of 
troubling  you  a  little  more  than  I  intended.  You  must  look 
out,  for  me,  that  we  do  not  get  into  the  same  car,  and  after- 
wards you  may  have  a  good  deal  more  of  trouble  to  keep  us 
apart.     May  I  tax  you  so  far  ?" 

"  I  think  so,"  answered  Leslie.     "Hark!" 

Through  the  hills  above  them  there  swept  down  a  rum- 
ble, a  roar,  and  a  rattle,  growing  deeper  every  moment. 

\ 


340  3  II  0  ULDBB-ST  R  A  P  S. 

"Clear  the  track,  there,"  cried  Leslie,  loud  enough  to  be 
beard  by  all  the  hundreds  of  passengers.  "The  down-train  is 
coming  \n 

In  an  instant  the  train  from  Albany  broke  into  sight  from 
the  woods  above,  and  came  thundering  down,  barely  giving 
the  passengers  who  had  been  lounging  on  the  track,  time  to 
drag  themselves  and  their  baggage  out  of  the  way.  It  was 
now  growing  dusk,  but  the  train  stopped  upon  the  bridge 
without  accident ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  down  pi 
gers  were  unloaded  and  transferred,  those  going  up  were  on 
board,  and  the  long  line  moved  back  again,  the  locomotive  in 
the  rear  and  pushing  all  the  cars  backwards  like  a  gigantic 
wheelbarrow. 

Leslie  had  taken  Miss  Harris'  hint  at  once,  and  kept  his 
eye  on  the  Colonel  when  the  embarkation  was  being  made. 
He  saw  him  step  on  board  one  of  the  rear  cars,  and  himself 
and  his  companion  took  places  farther  forward,  so  that  any 
danger  of  recognition  was  past  for  the  time. 

There  was  nothing  of  incident  in  the  night-ride  which  fol- 
lowed, demanding  description  in  these  pages,  except  that 
Leslie  found  a  pleasure  he  had  not  anticipated,  in  Miss  Josey's 
growing  drowsy  and  making  a  pillow  of  him  eventually. 
There  have  been  heavier  burdens  than  that  he  bore  ;  and 
what  with  the  soft  breath  playing  so  near  his  cheek  in  the 
innocence  of  slumber — the  light  form  around  which  he  was 
obliged  to  clasp  his  arm  (as  a  matter  of  duty — to  keep  her 
from  slipping  from  the  seat,  of  course  !) — the  dashes  through 
dusky  woods  and  the  glimpses  of  the  moonlit  river, — what 
with  all  these  and  the  pleasant  company  of  a  heart  that  had 
never  yet  known  what  it  was  to  be  desponding,  Tom  Leslie 
managed  to  enjoy  the  latter  portion  of  the  ride  to  Albany, 
amazingly.  At  one  o'clock  he  woke  up  the  pleasant  burden 
on  his  arm,  and  half  an  hour  after,  Josephine  Harris  was 
cradled  in  soft  slumbers  at  the  Delavan,  in  Albany,  while  Tom 
Leslie,  a  very  human  description  of  guardian  angel,  was 
watching  over  her  slumbers  from  his  sleepless  pillow  in  an- 
other wing  of  the  building. 

Corresponding  precautions  to  those  of  the  evening  were 
taken  in  the  morning,  when  the  travellers  took  the  cars  of  the 


S  II  O  U  L  1)  E  R-9  T  R  A  P  S.  341 

Central  Road,  for  Utica  and  their  separation  ;  but  in  that  in- 
stance they  seemed  to  be  superfluous.  Whether  Colonel 
Egbert  Crawford  disdained  to  pursue  his  route  at  that  early 
hour  in  the  morning,  or  whether  he  had  one  more  favorable 
report  to  make  at  the  Adjutant-General's  office,  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment,  detaining  him  in  Al- 
bany for  another  train, — certain  it  is  that  he  did  not  make  his 
appearance,  and  that  the  "amateur  detective"  and  her  com- 
panion were  free  to  choose  any  of  the  cars  of  the  train.  A 
rapid  ride  through  the  Mohawk  Valley,  with  the  quiet  river 
of  the  same  name  ever  at  their  side,  and  the  Erie  Canal  continu- 
ally in  view,  with  its  pleasant  reminder  of  the  extent  and  the 
wealth  of  the  Empire  State, — and  before  their  morning's  con- 
versation was  half  finished  (for  what  check  or  bound  is  there 
to  the  invaluable  nothings  of  two  lovers  who  have  not  yet 
recovered  from  the  novelty  of  their  first  impressions  ?)  they 
dashed  up  to  the  station  at  Utica  and  alighted  for  dinner  at 
the  American. 

It  is  no  matter,  here,  what  arrangements  had  been  made 
between  the  two  for  their  subsequent  meeting  and  corre- 
spondence ;  it  is  enough  to  know  that  no  fetter  has  yet  been 
forged  by  any  Tubal  Cain  of  them  all,  strong  enough  to  hold 
apart  those  who  choose  to  single  out  each  other  from  the 
world.  Tom  Leslie  and  Josephine  Harris  were  to  meet 
again,  and  at  an  early  day ;  and  with  that  understanding 
both  were  reasonably  well  content — the  male  member  of  tho 
combination  because  he  had  no  option,  and  the  female  mem- 
ber because  she  really  had  such  a  multitude  of  benevolent 
plans  in  her  busy  brain  that  she  had  no  time  to  be  otherwise. 

Before  Josephine  Harris  had  finished  her  capital  dinner  at 
the  American,  and  ceased  trifling  with  those  magnificent  straw- 
berries, the  finest  of  any  season  within  memory,  (that  young 
person  was  favored  with  a  most  unromantic  appetite,  and 
often  managed  to  astonish  those  who  had  the  pleasure  of 
paying  her  bills  at  a  restaurant  dinner  or  supper) — before  all 
this  was  accomplished,  and  before  the  bell  had  rung,  calling 
the  passengers  for  the  Northward  to  resume  their  seats  on 
the  train,  Leslie  had  succeeded  in  discovering  the  where- 
abouts of  the  proper  stage  for  the  remainder  of  Miss  Josey's 


342  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

journey,  and  making  tbo  necessary  arrangements  for  ber 
baggage  and  her  personal  accommodation.     This  done,  and 

his  mind  at  rest  on  that  particular  point,  the  beU  rang,  the 
two  made  a  hurried  farewell,  in  which  a  warm  pressure  of 
the  hand  served  (for  propriety's  sake)  in  the  place  of  a  part- 
ing- kiss  understood ;  and  Leslie  sprung  into  his  ear  and  was 
whirled  away  Northward  towards  the  Mecca  of  American 
summer-tourists ;  while  the  young  girl  went  up  to  "  do" 
Utica  in  a  bird's-eye  view  from  the  window  of  her  room, 
and  to  await  the  four  o'clock  that  was  to  bear  her  away  in 
the  lumbering  stage  to  West  Falls.  Perhaps  Tom  Leslie 
felt  at  that  moment  that  he  would  have  been  glad  of  any 
excuse  or  any  shadow  of  invitation  to  accompany  her  to  that 
rustic  paradise,  instead  of  going  away  alone  to  any  paradise 
named  in  Bible  or  Koran ;  and  perhaps  Joe  Harris  had  the 
faintest  suspicion  of  a  heavy  and  lonely  feeling  at  her  heart, 
at  parting  with  the  "  eyes"  and  the  merry  brain  that  lay  be- 
hind them,  so  suddenly  flung  as  an  element  into  her  own 
existence. 

Henceforward,  for  the  present,  the  business  of  this  narra- 
tion only  requires  that  the  course  of  Miss  Josephine  Harris 
shall  be  traced,  leaving  the  "  other  half"  of  her  incomplete 
"  pair  of  scissors"  to  be  picked  up  hereafter. 

No  one  who  has  ever  travelled  among  the  mountains  or 
through  any  of  the  Northern  hill-sections,  needs  any  descrip- 
tion of  the  heavy  lumbering  "  Concord  coach"  in  which  the 
young  girl  and  her  stage-companions  were  slowly  dragged  up 
Genesee  Street,  Utica,  by  four  horses  of  lymphatic  tempera- 
ment, on  that  sultry  Jury  afternoon  with  occasional  sprinkles 
of  shower  thrown  in  to  make  it  endurable.  They  are  all 
alike — those  heavy  coaches — except  as  to  paint  and  uphol- 
stery, wherever  we  meet  them, — whether  they  drag  us  up 
the  Cattskills,  bear  us  over  from  Moreau  to  Lake  George, 
dash  down  with  us  through  the  gorges  of  the  "White  Moun- 
tains, or  jog  us  heavily  along  the  rough  roads  that  thread  the 
Alleghanies.  The  same  half  cord  of  wood  in  each  of  the 
curved  bodies — the  same  complication  of  sole-leather  in  the 
swinging  jacks  which  serve  in  the  place  of  springs — the  same 
cumbrous  weight  of  wheel,  suggesting  that  a  mill  may  have 


S  II  O  U  L  I)  EK-S  T  B  A  P  S.  3-i3 

gone  out  on  its;  trawls,  locomoted  on  its  running-gear  And 
yet  there  is  no  conveyance  bo  safe  or  so  easy  for  the  moun- 
tain ;  and  some  of  us  have  enjoyed  pleasant  hours  lounging 
back  upon  those  polished  leather  cushions  within,  or  shouting* 
out  enthusiastic  admiration  of  scenery  from  the  pokerish 
scats  on  the  top. 

It  is  a  pleasant  ride,  at  any  season  of  the  year — that  from 
Utica  over  the  range  of  hills  which  lies  westward,  to  the 
Oneida  Valley  which  nestles  down  a  few  miles  beyond. 
And  it  was  especially  pleasant  and  enjoyable,  that  afternoon, 
with  the  cloud-shadows  playing  over  the  yet  uncut  wheat- 
fields,  and  the  glints  of  sunlight  falling  on  the  roofs  and  gables 
of  cozy-looking  farmsteads  bordering  the  road  on  either  hand 
or  peeping  out  from  behind  clumps  of  woods  in  the  distance. 
The  opened  back-curtains  of  the  coach  gave  a  delicious  view, 
when  they  had  surmounted  the  height,  of  Utica  lying  on  the 
slope  below,  stretching  downwards  towards  the  Mohawk  and 
the  Canal,  with  its  clustering  domes  and  spires  and  the 
melancholy  Lunatic  As}dum  overlooking  all  from  the  North- 
west. And  a  view  not  less  pleasant  opened  before,  of  the 
long  stretch  of  valley  lying  in  the  distance,  bounded  on  either 
side  by  a  continuous  range  of  hills  rising  up  with  an  almost 
even  slope,  crowned  with  woods  and  diversified  with  the 
divisions  of  cultivated  fields,  and  here  and  there  a  glint  of 
water,  showing  where  the  silver  Sauquoit,  most  laboriously 
taxed  of  all  minor  streams  except  those  of  the  Naugatuck 
and  Housatonic  Valleys,  wound  its  busy  way  down  to  the 
Mohawk. 

And  when  the  eye  tired  of  resting  upon  these,  it  could 
find  variety  in  studying  the  Welsh  contour  and  primitive  as- 
pect of  many  of  the  Oneida  countrymen  passing  upon  the 
road — the  clumsy  contrivances  of  a  hundred  years  ago,  on 
which  the  gathered  loads  of  hay  were  going  homeward  from 
some  of  the  out-lands — and  the  long,  low  wagons  on  which 
great  pyramids  of  boxes  of  cheese,  the  staple  of  the  section, 
were  being  slowly  dragged  towards  Utica  and  a  market. 

But  fair  Oneida  showed  that  war  was  in  the  land,  removed 
though  it  might  be  from  the  great  centres  of  recruiting  opera- 
tions.    Joe   Harris  had   noticed  that   a  recruiting  tent  for 


3-i-i  SHOULD  Ell   STRAPS. 

McQuade's  gallant  Fourteenth  stood  in  the  middle  of  Genesee 
Street,  only  a  little  way  above  the  hotels,  with  drums  boat- 
ing  and  flags  and  placards  exhibited ;  and  even  in  the  fields 
she  saw  traces  of  the  effort  to  answer  the  President's  last 
demand  for  troops.  Where  on  the  visits  of  previous  ; 
she  had  seen  only  men  toiling  in  the  sunshine,  many  women 
were  laboring  now,  and  the  change  was  significant.  The 
homes  of  Oneida  had  already  given  of  their  best  and  bravest 
to  the  cause  of  the  nation,  and  still  the  Moloch  of  war  de- 
manded more  ! — more,  ever  and  continually  more  ! 

There  was  a  reminder  of  the  war,  too,  within  the  coach, 
and  a  reminder  of  the  mode  in  which  the  recruiting  service 
Mas  being  conducted.  On  one  of  the  front  seats  sat  a  line- 
looking  young  man,  bright-eyed  and  keen-faced,  in  the 
shoddy  uniform  of  a  private.  His  conversation  was  a* 
that  of  a  patriot  and  a  gentleman ;  and  it  did  not  require 
many  moments  of  unavoidable  listening  for  the  young  girl  to 
discover  that  he  was  well  educated.  Further  conversation 
between  himself  and  other  passengers  who  seemed  to  know 
and  respect  him,  showed  that  he  had  abandoned  his  studies 
in  a  leading  institution,  to  answer  the  call  of  the  country — 
that  mathematics  and  military  science  had  formed  a  consider- 
able part  of  his  studies — that  he  had  had  some  hopes,  when  ho 
enlisted,,  of  obtaining  the  grade  of  a  subaltern  officer,  when 
he  should  succeed  in  procuring  sufficient  enlistments — that 
by  his  personal  efforts  and  fervid  eloquence  he  had  already 
succeeded  in  enlisting  more  than  fifty  men  for  the  regiment 
with  which  he  was  connected,  and  was  then  on  his  way  to 
another  section  of  the  county  to  make  further  efforts  in  the 
same  direction — and  that  he  was  still  a  "full  private/'  with 
a  certainty  of  rising  no  higher,  because  he  had  neither  money 
nor  political  influence  to  put  him  forward.  So  that  this 
young  patriot  and  soldier,  who  showed  the  power  and  energy 
of  his  nature  in  every  glance  of  his  eye  and  every  word  he 
spoke,  was  to  be  kept  in  the  lowest  position  known  to  the 
service,  and  commanded  by  men  who  had  never  heard  of 
a  book  on  military  science  or  tactics,  a  week  before,  but  v.  ho 
could  buy  commissions  or  command  a  certain  number  of  votes 
at  a  town-meeting  !     Josephine  Harris  had  studied  the  cur- 


S  II  0  D  I,  DE  R-ST  HA  PS.  8^5 

rent  history  of  the  time,  enough  to  know  and  recognize  the 
picture  set  before  her,  and  to  say,  silently  and  between  her 
set  teeth : 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  only  a  man,  to  start  out  with  a  horse- 
whip and  lash  these  incapables  until  they  howled  !» 

Six  o'clock,  and  the  stage  went  rumbling  and  swaying  into 
the  little  village  of  West  Falls,  which  it  is  hoped  that  no  mat- 
ter-of-fact reader  will  attempt  to  find  on  the  map  of  Oneida, 
albeit  it  has  a  veritable  existence  there  under  another  name. 
It  was  a  cozy  little  spot,  nestled  down  into  the  valley  of 
a  small  stream,  half  creek  and  half  river,  that  formed  a  cata- 
ract in  the  neighborhood  and  gave  it  the  name.  Factories 
clustered  along  the  stream,  making  the  idle  water  labor  for 
the  benefit  of  man,  and  within  them  whirred  the  spindle  of  the 
cotton  or  wool  spinner  and  clanked  the  hammer  of  the  worker 
in  iron  and  steel.  The  village  itself  lay  partly  in  the  valley, 
along  the  east  margin  of  the  stream,  and  partly  climbing  the 
slight  range  of  hills  that  bounded  it  still  farther  eastward. 
A  wilderness  of  shade-trees  bordered  the  main  street  and 
seemed  to  cluster  around  every  house  on  the  narrow  lanes 
that  branched  from  it,  presenting  a  cool  and  refreshing  pic- 
ture in  the  hot  summer  afternoon,  and  suggesting  rosy- 
cheeked  lasses,  breezy  halls  and  bed-rooms,  real  milk  instead 
of  the  manufactured  article,  and  all  the  other  pleasant  things 
traditionally  supposed  to  belong  to  summer  in  the  country. 

Up  the  long  shady  street,  then  down  a  wide  bye-street  that 
branched  to  the  left  under  the  very  edge  of  the  hills,  and  the 
accommodating  stage  set  the  city  girl  down  at  the  gate  of  a 
neat-looking  story-and-a-half  house,  buried  in  trees  and  bow- 
ered  in  summer  flowers,  unvisited  by  her  for  the  previous 
three  years,  but  before  that  time  the  scene  of  many  an  hour 
of  quiet  rustic  enjoyment.  For  reasons  best  known  to  her- 
self, Josephine  Harris  had  chosen  not  to  advise  her  hostess 
of  her  intended  visit,  but  she  had  no  fears  that  it  could  pos- 
sibly find  her  "not  at  home,"  and  indeed  before  the  clanking 
steps  of  the  coach  were  well  let  down,  the  new-comer  had 
been  recognized  from  the  house,  and  a  young  girl  came  flying 
down  the  pathway  to  the  gate.  This, was  Susan  Halstead, 
her  cousin,  three  years  younger  than  herself,  petite  in  figure, 


346  S  H  O  U  L  DE  li  -  S  T  R  A  P  S. 

brown-haired  and  round-faced,  with  the  curls  flying  loose 
over  her  shoulders  and  her  childish  mouth  all  puckered  with 
pleasure  at  once  more  seeing  and  embracing  "  Cousin  Joe.n 

The  stage  rolled  away,  the  luggage  found  its  way  inside 
the  white  gate,  and  Josephine  was  soon  in  the  arms  of  her 
matronly-looking  Aunt  Betsey,  her  mother's  sister  and  the 
country  type  of  the  family  as  Mrs.  Harris  herself  supplied 
that  representing  the  city.  Much  taller  in  figure  than  her 
daughter,  a  little  deaf  and  with  many  threads  of  silver  shining 
in  her  dark  hair,  but  with  the  kindest  face  and  the  merriest 
laugh  in  the  world,  Mrs.  Betsey  Halstead  furnished  a  pleasant 
specimen  of  those  moderately-circumstanced  Lady  Bountiful* 
of  the  country  and  the  country  village,  who  always  have  a. 
spare  bed  for  the  wayfarer,  always  a  cup  of  milk  and  a  slice 
oi'  fresh  1  tread  for  the  weak  and  the  needy,  and  always  an 
unalloyed  enjoyment  in  the  coming  of  "company," i.e.t visitors. 

It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the  coming  of  merry  Joe 
was  a  pleasure  as  well  as  a  surprise,  that  she  was  over- 
whelmed with  welcomes  as  well  as  questions,  that  aunt  and 
cousin  and  the  tidy  "  help"  all  vied  in  the  effort  to  "  put  away 
her  things,"  and  that  in  five  minutes  the  city  girl  was  more 
pleasantly  flustered  than  she  would  have  been  on  entering  a 
fashionable  ball  at  Irving  Hall  or  attending  the  first  hop  of 
the  season  at  Newport.  Pleasantly  flustered — that  is,  she  did 
not  quite  know  whether  her  head  was  on  or  off  her  shoulders, 
and  yet  she  knew  that  she  was  for  the  time  in  a  quiet  little 
haven  of  country  rest  from  the  noise  and  whirl  of  the  great 
city,  very  pleasant  to  contemplate. 

"  And  }'ou  did  not  write  us  a  word  about  your  coming  ?" 
said  Aunt  Betsey,  interrogatively,  when  the  bonnet  had  been 
laid  oft",  the  dust  brushed  away,  and  the  second  kiss  of  meet- 
ing exchanged. 

"Not  a  word,  Aunt,"  was  the  young  giiTs  reply.  "You 
know  that  I  never  do  things  like  other  people.  I  knew  that 
you  would  be  at  home — knew  that  you  would  be  glad  to  see 
me — did  not  know  that  I  was  coming,  myself,  until  a  day  or 
two  ago — and  do  not  think  that  I  should  have  written,  if  I 
had,  when  it  was  so  much  easier  to  bring  the  information 
myself." 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  347 

"  Still  the  same  rattle-brain !"  said  Aunt  Betsey,  shaking 
her  head  with  that  peculiar  gesture  which  really  implies  ad- 
miration of  a  prodigy.  "  So  mother  is  still  in  the  city,  is  she  ? 
Why  did  not  she  come  along  ?" 

"Yes?"  echoed  Susan.  ''Why  didn't  she  come  along? 
Did  you  come  all  the  way  alone  ?" 
i  "No,"  answered  Joscy,  with  the  least  little  bit  of  hesita- 
tion in  her  answer,  and  the  tiniest  flush  creeping  up  on  her 
face,  that  neither  of  the  others  had  the  tact  to  see.  "  There 
were  some  friends  of  mine  going  on  to  Niagara,  and  so  I  had 
company  all  the  way  to  Utica,  and  they  set  me  down  there." 
Sly  Joe  I— why  did  she  use  the  plural  number,—' 'friends," 
and  "  they"  ?  Why  will  people,  even  those  belonging  to  the 
most  irreproachable  classes  of  society,  indulge  in  these  little 
fibs  upon  occasion  ? 

^  "  Oh,  Cousin  Joe,"  said  Susy,  "  you  do  not  know  what  a 
nice  little  room  we  have  for  you,  up-stairs.  The  vines  have 
climbed  up  and  half  covered  the  window,  and  a  robin  has 
built  its  nest  in  one  of  the  branches  of  the  big  apple-tree, 
that  hangs  so  close  to  it.  Little  robie  will  wake  you  early  in 
the  morning,  I'll  be  bound— none  of  the  late  lying  in  bed  that 
they  say  you  all  practice  in  the  great  city  !" 

"  No,  you  rose-bud  !"  exclaimed  Joe."  "I  will  get  up  as 
early  as  any  of  you,  especially  as  I  have  not  come  out  here 
to  be  idle,  but  to  work.  But  where  is  Uncle  ?— I  have  not 
seen  him  yet?" 

"  Your  Uncle  Halstead,"  said  Aunt  Betsey,  with  a  shade  of 
sorrow  momentarily  crossing  her  kindly  face.  "  Oh,  I  sup- ' 
pose  you  did  not  know  it  1  Your  Uncle  has  gone  to  the  war, 
with  the  rest  of  them.  There  have  a  great  many  gone  from 
Oneida— scarcely  a  family  that  does  not  miss  one  member  at 
least.  Some  of  them  will  not  come  back,  I  suppose ;  and 
some  may.  God  shelter  and  keep  your  Uncle  !  It  was  a 
little  hard  to  part  with  him,  after  being  together  nearly  all 
the  time  for  so  many  years  ;  but  he  felt  that  he  must  go,  and 
he  knew  his  duty  best," 

"  And  you  so  cheerful  about  it  that  I  did  not  even  know 
till  now  that  he  was  gone  !"  said  Joe,  with  surprise. 

"  Why  yes,"  said  her  Aunt,     »  If  they  have  a  dutv  to  fight 


348  SHOULDER    STRAPS. 

for  the  country,  toe  have  a  duty  to  be  patient  while  they  arj 
gone  and  do  the  best  we  can  with  what  they  leave  behind 
them  !" 

Bravely  and  truly  said,  wife  of  the  Oneida  soldier  !  If  the 
battles  of  the  Union  are  lost,  half  the  fault  will  lie  with  the 
women  who  have  preferred  their  own  ease  and  the  content- 
ment of  their  own  affections,  to  the  peril  of  their  native  land  ; 
and  if  those  battles  are  won,  no  small  share  of  the  credit  will 
be  due  to  those  true-hearted  descendants  of  Molly  Starke, 
who  have  emulated  the  self-sacrificing  spirit  of  the  women  of 
old  Rome  and  sent  off  the  husbands  they  loved  and  the  sons 
upon  whom  they  leaned,  to  win  their  love  and  confidence  over 
again  on  the  battle-field,  or  to  die  for  the  worshipped  flag  and 
the  perilled  nation  ! 

"  God  shelter  and  keep  him,  indeed  !"  responded  the  young 
girl.  "  And  he  will,  without  a  doubt."  No  one  could  exactly 
understand  why  it  should  be  so,,  in  conjunction  with  the  dash 
and  freedom  of  her  character ;  but  hidden  away  somewhere 
among  the  dark  glossy  hair  was  a  bump  of  Veneration  that 
recognized  the  Supreme  Being  with  the  most  filial  love  and 
trust,  and  in  the  heart  there  was  a  corresponding  throb  of 
gratitude,  confidence  and  childlike  dependence. 

"  But  what  have  you  got,  out-of-doors  ?"  she  asked,  changing 
her  manner  again  to  that  of  one  who  had  no  thought  beyond 
the  present.  "  I  have  not  quite  forgotten  how  the  old  yard 
looks,  with  the  smoke-house  close  to  the  back  door,  and  the 
barn  at  the  other  end.  Got  any  pigs  and  chickens  ?  And 
how's  your  cat  ?" 

"The  cat  is  well,'-  said  Susan,  gravely — "that  is,  as  well 
as  could  be  expected.  She  has  quite  a  family.  We  have  lots 
of  chickens — you  must  have  seen  some  of  them  in  the  front 
yard  as  you  came  in.  And  pigs — a  pen  full  of  them,  but  a 
little  too  big  to  suit  you.  They  are  too  heavy  and  dirty  to 
take  in  your  arms,  and  all  the  curl  is  gone  out  of  their  tails." 

"So  sorry!"  said  Miss  Josey,  with  the  most  melancholy 
of  pouts  on  her  lip,  and  with  a  funny  reminder  of  Laura 
Keene  when  she  uses  the  same  expression  to  the  discarded 
Pomander  in  "  Peg  Woffington." 

"But  we  have  something  else  that  you  will  like,"  Susy 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  349 

continued,  determined  to  alone  for  any  disappointment  in  the 
pigs  and  their  terminations.  MWe  have  got  a  calf — a  nice 
red-and-white  spotted  calf,  only  about  a  week  old." 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  thing  I"  cried  the  merry  girl.  "  We  will 
go  at  once  and  have  a  look  at  the  calf.     Does  it  hook  ?" 

"  Hook  ? — you  stupid  thing  \n  laughed  Susy.  "Why  it  is 
only  a  week  old,  I  tell  you  ;  and  of  course  it  hasn't  any  horns. 
But  come  along  I"  and  down  from  a  convenient  peg  she  pulled 
a  couple  of  sun-bonnets,  her  mother's  and  her  own,  sticking 
one  on  the  gypsy  head  of  Josey  and  the  other  on  her  own 
refractory  curls.  "But  stop — we  have  something  else  that 
you  have  not  thought  of  "—and  she  pulled  down  the  head  of 
her  cousin  and  whispered  in  her  ear. 

"  Cherries  !  oh  good  gracious  !"  absolutely  yelled  the  young 
lady.  "  Quick — get  me  some  boy's-trousers  and  a  step-ladder ! 
No,  you  needn't  mind  the  trousers,  as  long  as  it  is  only  you, 
Susy,  who  is  going  to  help  me  pick ;  but  the  step-ladder — 
don't  forget  the  step-ladder  !"  and  away  she  went,  flying  out 
of  the  house,  her  hand  in  that  of  Susan,  and  the  whole  move- 
ment more  suggestive  than  anything  else,  of  two  young  colts 
turned  out  in  a  clover-field  for  a  summer-day  frolic. 

Five  minutes  afterwards,  a  subterranean  observer,  could 
such  a  person  have  been  possible,  would  have  seen  Miss  Josey 
most  unromantically  astride  of  a  limb,  half  way  up  the  big 
Tartarean  cherry  tree  overhanging  the  smoke-house,  appro- 
priating those  pulpy  little  purple  globes  at  a  most  luxurious 
rate,  and  staining  her  cherry  lips  and  her  white  fingers  very 
nearly  of  the  same  color.  Susy  stood  below,  laughing  and 
clapping  her  hands  at  mad  Joseph's  position,  and  eating,  by 
way  of  sympathy,  the  few  clusters  thrown  down  to  her  by 
the  busy  lingers. 

But  we  cannot  linger  upon  this  picture,  pleasant  as  it  is — 
nor  yet  upon  the  adventures  of  Josey  among  the  pigs,  chickens, 
cats,  with  the  calf  (which  managed  to  "  butt"  her  over,  even 
if  it  could  not  "  hook"),  and  among  all  and  singular  the  be- 
longings and  appliances  connected  with  that  cozy  little  retreat 
in  the  country  village.  Then  what  a  supper  followed,  with 
the  flaky  white  tea-biscuit  made  by  Aunt  Betsey's  own  hands, 
with  the  fresh  cream  equally  divided  between  the  cherries  and 


350  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

the  strawberries,  and  the  scent  of  the  roses  stolen  by  the 
Blight  evening  breeze  and  thrown  in  at  the  windows.-  Then 
an  hour  of  moonlight,  but  only  an  hour,  for  the  young  girl 
was  wearied  out  by  the  changes  of  scene  that  had  kept  her 
excited  during  the  day,  and  the  broken  rest  of  the  night  be- 
fore. Long  hours  earlier  than  Tom  Leslie  heard  the  whistle 
of  his  train,  braking-up  at  Suspension  Bridge,  Josephine 
was  nestling  among  the  white  sheets  and  cool  pillows  of  her 
pleasant  chamber,  nodded  at  by  the  vines  at  the  window 
and  just  lovingly  kissed  by  one  glint  of  the  moon  that  stole 
in  upon  her  privacy — sleeping  such  a  sleep  as  wealth  and 
power  turn  wearily  upon  their  pillows  and  pray  for  without 
hope. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


Josephine  Harris  in  Search  of  Information — A  Big  Fib 
for  a  Good  End — Mary  Crawford  with  Her  Eyes  SnuT, 
and  with  the  same  eyes  opened — a  bomb-shell  for 
Colonel  Egbert  Crawford. 

Pleasant  though  those  hours  in  the  little  homestead  at 
West  Falls  may  have  been,  they  must  be  passed  rapidly  over, 
except  as  each  bore  some  event  connected  with  the  progress 
of  this  story. 

When  Josephine  Harris  woke  next  morning  with  the  birds 
singing  Sunday  matins  under  her  window,  all  the  fogs  and 
mists  of  merriment  and  country  enjoyment  seemed  for  the 
time  to  have  rolled  away  from  her  brain,  and  the  prime  object 
of  her  visit  to  West  Falls  came  prominently  into  her  mind. 
In  order  to  effect  it,  it  was  necessary  that  her  aunt  and  cousin 
should  both  be  taken  somewhat  into  her  confidence  ;  and  she 
had  no  fear  of  any  evil  result  from  this,  as  their  location  at  a 
distance  from  the  city  would  prevent  any  ill  effects  even  from 
an  unguarded  word.  Whatever  these  confidences  were  to  be, 
however,  there  was  no  occasion  to  make  them  with  any  great 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  351 

suddenness  ;  and  in  her  character  of  an  "amateur  detective" 
she  naturally  preferred  to  make  what  discoveries  might  be 
possible,  before  explaining  her  motives  for  making  the  in- 
quiries. 

Accordingly,  when  breakfast  and  the   Sunday  "mornin«- 
work"  had  been  dispatched,  she  pulled  little  Susy  away  from 
the  house,  under  the  pretence  of  taking  a  "swino-"  in  the 
popular  abomination  of  that  name,  suspended  between  two  of 
the  trees  in  the  back-yard.     Seated  side  by  side  on  the  board 
seat  between  the  ropes,  and  with  their  arms  clasping  each 
.    others  waists,  the  two  girls  fell  into  a  conversation  which 
was  very  soon  led  by  Josephine  into  the  direction  she  wished 
J\  ot,  however,  until  she  had  propitiated  the  demon  of  mischief 
within  her  by  making  an  onslaught  upon  a  daguerreotype 
which  she  had  found  in  one  of  the  drawers  of  the  bureau  in 
her  room  during  an  imprudent  "rummage  "  before  breakfast, 
A  tew  sly  hits  at  the  appearance  of  the  face  there  depicted 
brought  a  sudden  flush  to  the  face  of  little  Susy;  and  not 
long  elapsed  before  they  elicited  the  information,  given  through 
deeper  and  warmer  blushes,  that  she  was  under  an  engage- 
ment of  marriage  to  the  young  man  whose  portrait  was  thus 
made  a  hidden  treasure-that  he  was  an  engineer  on  a  distant 
railroad  who  could  only  make  his  visits  to  West  Falls  at  in- 
tervals of  a  month  or  two-and  that  they  were  to  be  married 
sometime  during  the  ensuing  year,  if  life  and  health  would 
permit      Simple  Susy  !_what  a  pity  that  she  could  not  have 
been  informed  of  some  of  the  events  in  the  life  of  her  cousin 
which  had  occurred  during  the  previous  few  days-especially 
of  the   "friends"  who  had  accompanied  her  to  TJtica  »     In 
that  case  it  is  just  possible  that  the  blushes  might  have  been 
duplicated,  though  no  corresponding  confidence  could  have 
been  elicited,  for  the  best  of  all  reasons.     As  it  was,  Susan 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  pour  out  the  one  life-secret  of  her 
innocent  heart,  receiving  nothing  in  return  but  a  peal  ortwo 
ot  merry  laughter  and  a  final  assurance  that  "  ho  would  do  " 
anoMhat  "ho  was  not  so  very  homely  and  awkward,  after 

When  she  had  reduced  her  cousin  to  that  state  of  defence- 
Icssncss  and  subserviency,  I 'ussy  Harris  (as  we  have  before 


352  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

had  occasion  to  call  her)  suspended  amusement,  went  into 
business,  and  commenced  her  round  of  enquiries. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  in  full  sight  of  the  grounds  In 
the  neighborhood  of  the  barn,  from  its  elevated  position  near 
the  top  of  a  gently-swelling  knoll,  a  little  separated  from  the 
main  chain  of  hills  that  stretched  away  eastward — stood  a  large 
two-story  farm-house,  a  little  old  and  Dutch  in  its  appearance, 
but  thrifty-looking  and  suggesting  that  the  man  who  made 
it  a  residence  was  the  owner  of  many  broad  acres.  This 
appearance  was  very  much  added  to  by  the  size  and  extent 
of  the  barns  and  out-houses ;  and  the  impression  of  age  and 
stability  was  enhanced  by  the  fine  old  trees  which  surrounded 
the  yards  and  added  so  much  to  the  pleasantness  of  the  situa- 
tion. Erom  her  old  memory  of  the  place,  and  of  conversa- 
tions during  previous  visits  when  she  had  no  interest  what- 
ever in  the  inmates,  Josephine  Harris  had  an  impression  that 
this  house  was  the  abode  of  the  Crawfords  ;  and  it  was  upon 
that  supposition  that  she  began  her  enquiries. 

11  Let  me  see — I  almost  forget,"  she  said,  pausing  in  their 
swing,  and  with  the  air  of  one  trying  very  hard  to  remember — 
"  Who  was  it  that  used  to  live  in  the  big  house  yonder  on  the 
hill  ?     Thompson  ?     Johnson  ?     What  was  the  name  ?" 

"  The  big  house  ?  oh,  Crawford — the  Crawfords  live  there," 
answered  Susan,  very  innocently. 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  name  was  Crawford,"  said  Joe.  "  Let  me 
see — there  was  an  old  man — " 

"Yes,  old  John  Crawford,"  so  Susan  supplied  the  missing 
name. 

"  And  he  had  one  daughter — only  one  daughter,  and  only 
one  child,  I  think,"  said  Josephine,  working  her  features  into 
a  terrible  semblance  of  trying  to  recollect  something  in  the 
past,  that  had  almost  escaped  her. 

"  Why  yes,  he  had  only  one  child,  Mary,"  said  Susan, 
evincing  a  little  surprise.  "  But  I  did  not  know  that  you 
ever  met  her,  so  as  to  take  any  interest  in  her." 

"  Humph  1  well,  I  never  did  meet  her,  except  at  church," 
said  the  city  girl,  evasively.  "  But  you  were  pretty  yonng, 
then,  and  you  would  scarcely  have  remembered  it  if  I  had. 
I  remember  thinking  that  the  old  house  must  be  a  nice  place 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  353 

for  living  in  the  country,  and  I  thought  of  it  again  this  morn- 
ing.    Is  the  old  man  living  still  V 

Less  unsophisticated  persons  than  little  Susan  Halstead 
might  have  been  led  into  pursuing  a  subject  of  village  gossip, 
by  so  specious  a  trap  as  that  set  by  Josephine  ;  and  it  is  not 
strange  that  she  fell  at  once  into  the  line  of  conversation  that 
the  other  desired. 

"  Yes,  old  Mr.  Crawford  is  still  living,"  said  Susy,  "  and 
that  is  about  all  that  can  be  said.  He  is  old  and  very  feeble, 
and  they  have  been  expecting  him  to  die  any  day  for  the  past 
three  or  four  months.  And  that  is  not  all — as  you  seem  to 
have  known  something  about  Mary,  I  do  not  care  if  I  tell  you. 
There  is  serious  trouble  in  that  house,  Cousin  Josey !" 

"  Trouble  ?"  echoed  the  young  girl.  "  Indeed  !  why  what 
is  the  matter  ?" 

"It  is  a  long  story,"  said  Susan,  "but  perhaps  I  can  tell 
it  without  using  many  words.  You  know  that  the  Crawfords 
are  richer  than  most  of  us  here — they  say  that  the  old  man  is 
very  rich — and  so  they  belong  to  the  aristocracy  and  do  not 
associate  with  everybody.  Mary  is  older  than  myself,  a  year 
or  two,  but  we  were  at  school  together.  We  have  not  had 
much  intimacy  since,  but  a  little,  in  spite  of  the  difference 
in  our  circumstances.  Mary  is  a  dear,  good  soul,  and  not  a 
bit  proud,  though  the  family  are  proud  as  Lucifer.  Well, 
she  used  to  come  here  once  in  awhile,  and  she  made  me  come 
over  there,  though  I  always  felt  out  of  place  in  the  big  house. 
She  was  as  gay  and  merry,  then,  as  could  be,  and  seemed 
always  happy  and  light-hearted.  She  used  to  think  a  great 
deal  of  Mother,  apparently ;  and  once,  two  years  ago,  when 
Mother  was  very  sick,  she  came  down  two  or  three  times  a  day 
and  brought  her  everything  nice  that  she  could  think  of. 
Lately  she  has  noi  come  here  at  all,  and  as  she  is  richer  than  I, 
I  am  too  proud  to  put  myself  in  her  way." 

"  Did  nothing  occur  between  you,  to  make  any  change  in 
her  behavior  towards  you  ?"  asked  the  female  lawyer. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  answered  little  Susy.  "I  suppose  that 
some  of  her  fine  acquaintances  told  her  that  she  must  not 
visit  people  poorer  than  herself,  and  that  may  have  made  the 
difference." 


354  S  II  O  U  L  1)  E  K  -  S  T  B  A  P  8. 

"But  this  is  not  the  'trouble'  you  spoke  of,  is  it  ?,J  asked 
the  young  girl,  who  did  not  by  any  means  intend  to  allow  the 
cross-examination  to  fall  through  at  this  point. 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  said  the  unsuspicious  Susan.  "I  was 
coming  to  that  directly.  There  was  a  cousin  of  Mary's, 
Richard,  from  New  York,  who  used  to  come  up  here  very 
often.  I  sometimes  saw  them  together,  and  then  it  was  that 
she  looked  so  gay  and  happy.  I  am  sure  that  they  loved 
each  other,  and  every  one  thought  that  some  day  they  would 
be  married.  Of  course  I  have  never  heard  any  of  these 
things  from  her,  and  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  talk  about  them ; 
but  you  know  such  things  will  creep  out.  Well,  Richard 
Crawford  does  not  come  up  here  any  more.  They  say  that 
he  has  been  leading  a  dreadful  life,  drinking  and  going  into 
bad  places,  until  he  is  all  broken  down  and  a  miserable  crip- 
ple. There  is  another  cousin,  a  Colonel,  who  comes  up  here 
now,  and  he  and  Mary  go  out  together  sometimes.  The 
Crawfords  are  notorious  for  trying  to  keep  all  their  property 
in  the  family  ;  and  so,  as  the  other  has  proved  so  bad,  probably 
this  cousin  and  Mary  may  be  married.  But  she  looks  like  a 
ghost  when  I  meet  her,  at  church  or  when  she  is  riding  out ; 
and  I  know  that  she  is  unhappy.  Perhaps  she  loves  the 
poor  young  man  still,  bad  as  he  is.  Don't  you  think  that  is 
possible,  cousin  Joe  ?     And  may  that  not  be  what  ails  her  ?" 

"  Why  yes,  you  dear  little  soul,  I  should  think  very  likely !" 
said  the  city  girl,  leaning  down  her  head  on  her  hand  and 
trying  to  still  the  throbbing  of  her  temples.  What  a  revela- 
tion was  here,  from  lips  so  innocent  and  evidently  so  truthful ! 
And  how  the  whole  story  tallied  with  what  she  had  heard  in 
her  ambush  and  conjectured  from  other  circumstances  !  She 
was  on  the  right  scent,  beyond  a  question — but  here  came  her 
difficulty, — how  to  cut  this  knot  of  villainy,  even  now  that  it 
lay  plainly  before  her  1  This  was  the  question  that  labored 
through  the  young  girl's  brain  and  bent  down  her  head  on 
her  hand.  And  yet  it  must  be  done,  whatever  the  diffi- 
culty. Courage,  Joseph  Harris  ! — there  never  was  a  difficult 
thing,  either  in  wickedness  or  benevolence,  that  a  woman 
could  not  master  when  she  once  fairly  set  about  it  ! 

11  It  is  indeed  a  sad  story  that  you  have  been  telling,"  she 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  355 

said,  "ami  it  interests  me  more  and  more  in  the  family  and 
Weekly  in  Mary.     I  wish  I  could  see  her  and  talk  to  her 

he  h  a""  10m-;t  f'10  had  gathCTed  aUtheinformation  t!  a 
■she  had  any  right  to  expect,  and  now  came  the  necessarv 
confidence.     "What  wonld  you  say  now,  Susy,  if  I  con  d     n 
hack  some  of  the  light  into  Miss  Mary  Crawford's  eyes?"" 

iou  f    and  the  country  girl  looked  at  her  as  if  a  pair  of 
horns  had  suddenly  sprouted  from  under  the  dark  hair 
les,  //»  echoed  the  "amateur  detective  " 
I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  it,  especially  tts  you  do  not 

SuTn      "P  W^r  anythlng  mU*   ab0Ut  ^-"  -S 
Susan.     "But  indeed  I  should  he  very  much  pleased  if  von 

sometti  V  Sf     ttTPhme'  "SUpP°Se  tllenthatl  had  known 
sometln.g  about  these  people  for  a  long  time,  and  that  I  had 

o°usinuLtc ::tFt not  on,y  to  see  m^iear  «- -2 

abou^-wo,, M  ^em  1U  a  Wa>' that  they  knew  «*"»« 

about-wonld  you  and  your  mother  keep  the  secret  and  help 

The  wondering  eyes  looked  at  her  more  wonderingly  still 

som  oTt>eemed  t0  S6e  t,mt  the  S»eaker  ™  ^t  jesS,  »S 
some  of  those  country  people  have  a  faith  in  the  abilities  of 
people  from  the  "  big  city,"  not  always  justified. 

Certamly  I  wonld,"  said  Susy,  "and  I  am  snre  that 

XcirrrnythiDg  to  -™  ***■  B*  «*  ** 

paZnt^dV  TJn8t  g0Ting  t0  tcl1  ^ orat  ,eas*  » 

about  RL?/?hr  "In  °ne  Word'  aI1  these  "torieg 
about  Richard  Crawford  are  lies.  He  is  a  good,  true-hearted 
young  man  as  can  be  found  in  the  world.     I  know  him  verv 

tup ;T ri him  and  % sister  ™v  *  « <----- 

times  when  I  am  very  idle,  every  day.  I  love  him  as  T 
would  my  own  brother,  if  I  had  one  " 

"Not  better  than  a  brother,  eh,  cousin  Joscy  ?»  asked  the 
country  girl,  with  a  funny  glance  out  of  the  corneTof  he 

or  iiuM !!  "akl  .J°S  Ia"Jrhinff-    " lXot  Aeto  than  a  «m*M 

him  :l::;  *£££&  re ' akc  mattcrs  right  tet™ 


356  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"No,  I  suppose  you  would  not — I  didn't  think  of  that," 
said  Susy.  "And  so  you  know  them,  and  you  know  him, 
and  he  is  a  good  man,  is  he  ?  Why,  cousin  Josey,  where  did 
all  these  stories  come  from,  then  ?" 

"Humph!"  said  the  city  girl,  "we  may  find  all  that  out 
hy-and-bye.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  they  are  n<»t  true,  and 
that  I  know  them  not  to  be  true.  If  I  find  that  I  am  right 
in  my  suspicions  of  their  origin,  I  will  tell  you :  if  not,  you 
will  be  the  better  for  not  knowing." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  asked  the  proprietor  of 
the  unmanageable  curls  and  the  wondering  eyes. 

"I  scarcely  know  yet,  myself,"  said  the  schemer.  "It 
seems  certain  that  no  time  is  to  be  lost.  You  say  that  old 
Mr.  Crawford  may  die  any  day.  Now,  Susy,  it  is  my  belief 
that  if  he  should  die  to-day,  as  matters  are  arranged  Mary 
and  all  the  property  would  go — well,  I  cannot  tell  you  where, 
but  where  you  would  not  like  to  see  them." 

"  Indeed  you  frighten  me,  cousin  !"  said  Susy. 

"I  suppose  so,  answered  Josephine.  "But  now — see 
here  !  I  think  I  ought  to  see  Mary  Crawford  this  very  day, 
and  without  any  one  at  the  big  house  knowing  that  I  am 
at  West  Falls  or  that  she  has  any  communication  with  this 
house.     How  can  that  be  managed  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  managed  at  all !"  said 
the  country  girl,  with  a  very  hopeless  look  at  her  pleasant 
face. 

"  Indeed  it  must  /"  said  Miss  Josey,  who  was  only  confirmed 
in  the  determination  by  the  supposed  difficulty. 

"  I  do  not  see  how  it  can,"  repeated  Susy.  "  You  cannot  go 
there,  of  course,  without  being  seen,  and  I  do  not  know  of  any 
way  to  get  her  here.'1'' 

"  But  that  is  the  thing,"  persisted  Josephine.  "  She  must 
be  got  here,  in  some  way  or  another.  Pshaw  !  I  don't  see 
how  it  is  to  be  done,  but  it  must  be  done.  We  might  set  fire 
to  the  house,  and  that  would  probably  bring  her  over,  but  then 
it  would  bring  all  the  other  people  from  the  house,  and  then 
your  mother  might  have  some  objections." 

"  I  should  think  very  likely  she  would!"  said  Susy,  with 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  357 

another  wondering  look  around  at  the  female  torpedo  who 
was  thus  exploding  in  West  Palls. 

"  Stop  !  I  have  it !"  cried  the  wild  girl,  a  flash  of  triumph 
passing  over  her  face.  "Run  into  the  house,  Susy,  and  ask 
your  mother  to  come  out  here.  Your  'help'  must  not  hear 
what  is  said." 

Susy  ran  into  the  house  on  her  errand,  stopping  once,  as 
she  turned  the  corner,  to  look  around  and  satisfy  herself 
whether  Cousin  Joe  had  not  escaped  from  some  lunatic  asy- 
lum. While  she  was  gone,  Joe  sat  in  the  swing  alone  and 
did  some  energetic  thinking ;  but  twice,  before  the  old  lady 
came,  she  endorsed  her  plan  with  :  "Yes,  that  will  do.  That 
must  do  !" 

Directly  Aunt  Betsey  came  out  to  the  swing,  her  arms 
floured  to  the  elbows,  having  been  interrupted  in  the  midst  of 
the  divine  mysteries  of  moulding  cherry-dumplings,  for  the 
Sunday  dinner.  But  she  did  not  look  the  less  amiable  and 
good-natured  for  the  interruption,  as  many  good  housewives 
might  have  done. 

"Aunt,"  said  Josephine,  grasping  her  by  the  hand,  in  spite 
of  the  flour.  "Aunt,  I  want  you  to  do  a  good  and  benevolent 
action,  at  once." 

"  Well,  I  will  try,  my  child !"  said  the  good  woman. 
"That  is,  if  it  is  a  good  action  that  you  want  me  to  do. 
But  you  know,  Josey,  that  you  are  a  bit  of  a  rattle-brain." 

"Yes,  well,  I  think  that  I  may  have  heard  that  observation 
before,"  said  Miss  Josey.  "However,  I  can  live  through  it. 
Aunt,  I  will  tell  you  why,  by-and-bye  when  there  is  more  time, 
— but  I  have  a  reason,  that  may  be  one  of  life  and  death,  for 
what  I  ask.  I  want  you  to  believe  in  the  weight  of  my  rea- 
sons at  once,  and  to  help  me  get  Mary  Crawford  from  the  big 
house  yonder,  over  'here,  immediately." 

"Why,  she  does  not  come  here  now-a-days;  and  what  can 
you  want  of  her.?"  asked  Aunt  Betsey. 

"There  you  go,  Aunt !"  said  Joe.  "You  are  not  doing 
what  I  asked  you  to  do.  I  tell  you  there  are  reasons  why  I 
must  see  Mary  Crawford  to-day,  and  with  no  one,  outside  of 
tin's  house,  knowing  thai  i  do  so." 

"She  is  right,  Mother,"  said  Susan.     "She  has  told  me 


358^  SHOULDER-STRAP  S. 

what  she  moans,  and  she  ought  to  sec  her  at  once.  Do  help 
her — pray  do  I"  These  dear  little  innocent  people  who  are 
happy  in  their  own  love-affairs,  have  a  marvellous  faculty  of 
falling  into  the  needs  of  others,  and  God  bless  them  for  it ! 

"But  how?"  asked  Aunt  Betsey. 

"Oh,  /  don't  know,"  said  Susan.     "  Cousin  Josey  knows." 

"I  only  know  one  plan  to  get  her  here  without  suspicion," 
said  Josephine.  "  To  do  that  we  must  tell  a  falsehood,  but 
only  for  an  hour." 

"Oh,  I  cannot  tell  a  falsehood,"  said  the  conscientious 
matron. 

"  Yes  you  can,  or  you  can  let  us  tell  it,"  said  the  incorrigi- 
ble. "  Susy  tells  me  that  when  you  were  sick,  two  years 
ago,  Mary  Crawford  came  to  see  you  very  often." 

"She  did,  and  she  was  a  very  kind  nurse — Heaven  bless 
her,  even  if  she  does  not  come  to  see  us  any  more  !"  said  the 
old  lady. 

"If  she  thought  you  sick,  she  would  come  again,  I  think," 
said  Josephine.  "  Once  here,  my  word  for  it  that  she  would 
not  be  angry,  but  thank  you,  when  she  heard  all  that  I  have 
to  tell  her  " 

"  I  do  not  like  it,  my  child  !"  said  the  straightforward  wo- 
man. 

But  what  can  a  kind-hearted  old  lady  do,  with  two 
young  ones  and  one  a  model  of  her  sex,  tugging  at  her  apron- 
strings  ?  In  five  minutes  more,  without  at  all  understanding 
what  was  to  be  done  or  why  it  should  be  done,  Aunt  Betsey 
had  given  her  consent  to  take  part  in  what  was  probably  one 
of  the  first  falsehoods  of  her  life.  In  ten  minutes  more,  one 
of  the  boys  who  had  already  dressed  himself  for  church,  was 
on  his  way  to  the  Crawford  mansion,  with  a  sealed  note  in 
the  school-girl  hand-writing  of  Susan,  written  under  the 
dictation  of  Josephine,  and  reading  as  follows  : 

Sukday,  July  6th,  (morning). 
Dear  Jlliss  Craicford: — 

Please  pardon  the  liberty  I  take.  Mother  is  very  ill,  and  we 
should  be  very  grateful  if  you  would  say  nothing  to  any  one  else 
about  this  note  and  come  over  to  the  house  immediately. 

Very  respectfully  your  friend, 

Sdsah   IIalstead. 


s  n  O  U  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  II  A  P  s  359 

No  call  is  so  irresistible  as  that  which  appeals  to  the  sym- 
pathy of  a  true  woman  ;  and  no  crime  is  so  unpardonable  as 
that  which  trifles  with  such  sympathy.  Less  than  half  an 
hour  had  elapsed,  and  Aunt  Betsey,  a  little  ashamed  and  a 
pood  deal  frightened  at  what  had  been  done,  had  gone  up- 
stairs to  escape  the  possibility  of  first  meeting  the  young  girl 
if  she  should  come, — when  Josephine,  looking  impatiently 
out  of  the  window  at  the  road  leading  down  from  the  hill 
towards  the  centre  of  the  village,  saw  a  young  lady  coming 
down  the  path  at  the  side  of  the  road  and  approaching  the 
gate.  The  figure  was  short  and  rather  slight,  dressed  in 
some  light  summer-material,  wearing  one  of  the  light  jockey 
hats  of  the  time,  and  sheltered  from  the  hot  morning  sun  by  a 
parasol  of  dimensions  too  large  to  be  fashionable.  There  was 
no  reason  why  some  other  young  lady  should  not  be  walking 
the  foot-path  at  that  time,  especially  as  church-hour  was  ap- 
proaching ;  but  Josephine  Harris  had  an  indefinite  impression 
that  it  was  Mary  Crawford,  and  that  a  trial  was  approaching, 
more  severe  than  any  to  which  she  had  ever  before  subjected 
herself.  Susy  was  close  at  her  side,  and  as  the  figure  ap- 
proached, Josephine  called  her  attention  to  it. 

"Yes,"  said  Susy,  looking  out  of  the  window  for  only  one 
instant,  "that  is  Mary  Crawford,  and  she  is  coming  here." 

To  say  that  Josephine  Harris's  heart  was  beating  quickly, 
and  that  there  was  such  a  confused  rumbling  in  her  head  as 
that  which  forms  part  of  the  stage-fright  to  an  actress  or  the 
first  embarrassment  to  a  public  speaker  before  a  large  audi- 
ence— would  only  be  stating  the  simple  truth.  She  had  cer- 
tainly been  doing  a  bold  act — even  a  rash  one, — meddling  in 
the  business  of  another,  with  the  best  intentions,  it  was  true, 
but  under  circumstances  very  liable  to  be  misunderstood.  If 
things  should  not  be  as  she  had  understood  them  to  be,  at 
the  Crawford  mansion,  or  if  she  should  fail  in  convincing 
Miss  Crawford  of  the  truth  of  the  statements  she  was  ready 
to  make,  nothing  could  be  more  painful  than  the  position  in 
which  she  would  herself  remain,  and  nothing  more  injurious 
than  the  predicament  in  which  she  would  have  placed  her 
aunt  and  cousin.  All  this  she  realized,  and  for  one  moment 
she  felt  like  running  op-stairs  with  her  aunt,  and  hiding  her- 


8G0  S  II  O  U  LT>  Ell -STRAPS. 

self  between  two  of  the  thickest  feather-beds,  in  Bpite  of  the 
heat  of  the  season.  But,  courage  once  more,  Joe  Harris  ! 
The  playing  of  detective  en  amateur  is  not  always  a  sinecure 
or  a  pleasant  labor ;  but  if  it  succeeds — aye,  if  it  succeeds 
. — why  then  ! 

By  the  time  these  reflections  had  fairly  passed  through  her 
mind,  the  figure  of  Miss  Crawford  had  entered  the  gate  and 
was  coming  up  to  the  porch. 

"  Go  into  the  back  room,  Susan,"  said  the  city  girl.  "  You 
will  not  know  how  to  receive  her.     I  must  do  it." 

Instantly  Susan  glided  through  the  back  door,  and  shut  it, 
and  Josephine  Harris  was  alone  in  her  singular  position. 
At  the  same  moment  Miss  Crawford  tapped  at  the  closed 
front  door,  and  Josephine  at  once  opened  it  to  admit  her. 

Mary  Crawford  had  been  a  charmingly-pretty  country- 
girl — that  Joe  Harris  saw  at  a  glance,  the  moment  her  eye 
took  in  the  whole  contour ;  and  she  did  not  for  a  moment 
wonder  that  Richard  should  have  been  fond  of  her  or  that 
his  cousin  should  have  used  all  honorable  means  to  supplant 
him.  More  of  what  she  had  been  than  what  she  was,  the 
observer  saw.  Iso  change,  except  age,  could  take  away  the 
charm  from  the  rich  chestnut  auburn  (is  there  not  such  a 
color  ?)  of  her  hair;  and  her  face  could  never  be  other  than  a 
pleasant  and  a  good  one.  But  the  hazel  eyes  looked  as  if 
they  had  been  more  accustomed  to  filling  with  tears  than  any 
one  knew  besides  the  owner;  the  handsomely  rounded  cheeks 
looked  almost  as  sallow  as  they  might  have  done  from  long 
sickness ;  the  full,  girlish  mouth  had  a  pinched  and  pained 
expression  ;  and  though  she  was  dressed  richly  and  with 
excellent  taste,  for  a  mere  call  in  the  country,  there  was 
something  about  her  small  figure  which  showed  that  it  had 
once  been  fuller  and  rounder,  and  that  she  had  fallen  into 
lassitude  and  comparative  lifelessness. 

"I  had  a  note  from  Miss  Halstead.  saying  that  her  mother 
was  ill,"  said  Miss  Crawford,  recognizing  a  stranger's  face  as 
the  door  was  opened. 

"  Yes,"  said  Josephine.  "  Miss  Mary  Crawford,  I  pre- 
sume ?     Pray  come  in." 

11  Where  is  Mrs.  Halstead  ?"  asked  the  visitor,  perhaps  a 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  361 

//////'  surprised  that  she  should  not  at  least  have  been  received 
\>y  one  of  the  family. 

"  Pray  walk  into  this  room  a  moment  and  lay  off  your  bon- 
net," said  Josephine,  opening  the  door  into  the  cool,  shaded 
parlor  which  adjoined  the  sitting-room,  drawing  her  in  and 
shutting  the  door.  Perhaps  Miss  Crawford  saw  something 
strange,  too,  in  this  or  in  the  young  girl's  manner,  for  her 
eyes  ranged  around  the  room  and  then  alighted  upon  her 
companion,  with  a  little  wonder  expressed  in  them.  Joseph- 
ine Harris  saw  and  marked  the  expression  ;  and  she  was  too 
much  excited,  herself,  not  to  satisfy  that  wonder  very  quickly. 

"  Tray  sit  down,  Miss  Crawford,"  she  said,  drawing  a  large 
cushioned  rocker  near  one  of  the  windows. 

"  But  Mrs.  Halstead  ?"  again  asked  the  other.  "  Is  she 
not  very  sick  ?" 

"  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  before  this 
moment,  Miss  Crawford,"  said  Josephine,  her  voice  much 
thicker  and  huskier  than  she  had  ever  before  known  it  to 
be — "  but  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a  very  great 
favor  ?" 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  Miss ,"  said  the  visitor. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  the  temporary  hostess.  "  I  am  such 
an  odd  jumble  that  nobody  understands  me,  at  first.  But  let 
me  hope  that  I  may  make  myself  fully  understood  directly." 

"  May  I  ask  your  name,  Miss ?"  again  said  the  young 

girl,  inquiringly. 

"  Certainly,  you  have  a  perfect  right  to  my  name,"  said 
Josephine.  "  I  am  called  Josephine  Harris,  and  I  am  a  niece 
of  Mrs.  Halstead." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mary  Crawford  ;  but  whether  she  uttered  the 
word  in  recognition  or  in  depreciation,  the  other  had  no 
means  of  guessing. 

"I  said  that  I  was  going  to  ask  a  great  favor  of  you,"  said 
the  city  girl,  going  on.  "  It  is  that  you  will  remain  in  this 
room  while  I  say  some  very  strange  things  to  you,  and  that  you 
will  try  not  to  be  hurt  or  angry  with  me  until  I  have  done." 

"  This  is  certainly  very  strange,"  said  Mary  Crawford. 
"  "What  can  I  think  ?» 

"Think  that  you  are  in  the  house  of  true  friends,  who 


362  SHOULDBB-8  T  B  A  P  S. 

would    neither   see   you   harmed    nor    insulted,"    .-aid    Jo- 
sephine. 

M  Oh,  I  am  sure  of  that,"  answered  her  companion. 

"Then  listen  to  me,"  said  Josephine,,  "and  whatever  pur- 
prise  you  may  feel,  pray  do  not  say  it  until  you  have  beard 
all.  Mrs.  Halstead  is  not  sick,  and  the  note  sent  to  ymi  was 
written  at  my  request,  as  the  only  means  within  my  knowledge 
of  inducing  }*ou  to  visit  this  house  immediately." 

"  Mrs.  Halstead  not  sick  ?  a  falsehood — a  cruel  falsehood  !" 
said  the  young  girl,  with  some  indignation,  and  rising  from 
her  chair  as  if  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Miss  Mary  Crawford,  I  implore  you  to  resume  your  seat," 
said  Josephine,  her  voice  now  broken  and  husky  with  her 
great  agitation.  "  For  the  sake  of  your  own  happiness  and 
the  happiness  of  those  dearer  to  you  than  your  own  life,  I 
implore  you  to  hear  me  out." 

"  This  is  all  so  strange  ! — what  can  you  mean  ?"  she  ut- 
tered, but  she  sunk  back,  nevertheless,  into  the  chair  again. 

"  It  is  strange — it  is  all  strange — it  is  of  crime  and  suffer- 
ing that  I  am  about  to  tell  you,"  answered  Josephine.  "  To 
tell  you  for  your  own  sake  and  no  interest  of  my  own." 

"  For  my  sake  ?"  asked  Mary  Crawford,  now  visibly  trem- 
bling, and  with  a  look  of  startled  wonder  upon  her  face  that 
was  really  pitiable  to  behold.  "What  can  you  know  of  me, 
and  what  interest  can  you  take  in  me  ?" 

"  I  know  nearly  everything  of  you,  and  I  take  the  same 
interest  in  you  that  I  would  do  in  a  dear  sister,"  replied  the 
city  girl,  striving  to  use  the  words  that  would  most  reassure 
and  invite  confidence.  "  Will  you  understand  me  when  I  say 
that  two  of  the  dearest  friends  I  have  in  the  world  are  your 
cousins  Isabel  and  Richard  Crawford?" 

She  purposely  laid  a  peculiar  stress  on  the  latter  name,  and 
fixed  her  eyes  keenly  on  the  other  as  she  did  so.  Shi 
the  young  girl  flush  to  the  very  temples,  then  pale  as  sud- 
denly, make  another  movement  to  rise  from  her  chair,  then 
sink  back  again  as  if  from  sheer  exhaustion.  Oh,  it  was  not 
difficult  to  see  how  nearly  that  word  touched  with  agony  the 
very  fountains  of  her  life  !     She  seemed  trying  to  speak,  but 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  363 

the  words,  if  any  were  intended,  died  upon  her  lips,  and  her 
helpless  agitation  was  really  fearful  to  witness.  Josephine 
Harris  retained  sufficient  coolness  to  mark  every  indication, 
and  though  her  young  heart  bled  for  the  misery  before  her, 
after  a  moment's  silence  she  repeated  the  names : 

"  Did  yon  hear  me,  Miss  Mary  ?  I  said  that  two  of  my 
ilcarest  friends  were  Isabel  and  Richard  Crawford." 

This  time  the  young  girl  did  manage  to  stagger  to  her  feet, 
By  a  mighty  effort,  her  face  white  and  her  expression  piteous. 
Her  voice  had  broken  almost  to  hoarse  sobs,  as  she  said,  lean- 
ing one  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  chair : 

"I  do  not  know  why  you  have  sent  for  me,  or  why  you 
should  torture  me  so  cruelly  !  If  you  know  anything  of  me 
and  of  the  man  you  have  named,  you  know  that  every  word 
yon  spoak  is  an  unkindness,  and  that  he  is  the  last  man  in 
the  world  whose  name  should  sound  in  my  ears  !" 

"  He  is  the  first  man  in  the  world  whose  name  should  pass 
your  lips,  with  a  prayer  for  forgiveness  of  your  own  cruelty 
joined  with  it !"  said  his  advocate,  all  her  ardent  spirit  now 
thrown  into  her  words. 

"  My  cruelty  ?  His  forgiveness  ?"  echoed  Mary  Crawford, 
as  if  really  stunned. 

"  I  said  those  words,"  repeated  Josephine.  "  One  of  the 
best  and  noblest  men  that  God  ever  made  is  lying  on  his  sick- 
bed, nearly  dying.  He  loved  you — he  loves  you  still.  You 
pretended  to  love  him;  and  now  you  have  allowed  the  words 
of  falsehood  to  estrange  your  heart,  if  you  have  one  !  It  is 
to  save  you  from  doing  what  you  will  repent  to  your  dying 
day,  that  I  have  meddled  in  your  affairs  and  placed  myself 
in  this  false  position." 

"  The  words  of  falsehood  ?"  again  echoed  the  young  girl. 
If  she  had  heard  the  other  words  of  the  sentence,  these  were 
the  ones  which  seemed  to  have  fixed  themselves  most  deeply 
on  her  attention.  She  had  not  again  resumed  her  place  in 
the  chair,  but  stood  with  her  hand  on  its  arm,  in  the  same 
attitude  of  trouble  and  indecision. 

"Falsehood — the   worst   and   blackest!"   said  Josephine 
Harris.     "  Come  here  a  moment,  will  you  ?"     She  took  the 
hand  of  the  young  girl  in  hers,  and  led  her  close  to  the  win- 
23 


0  J4  SHOULD  EB-H  T  B  A  P  6. 

dow,  where  the  warm  light  of  the  summer  day  streamed  in 
more  brightly  and  countenances  could  be  better  discerned. 
"  Look  in  my  face.  "What  do  you  see  there  ? — tell  me  frankly 
— truth  or  deception  V 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Mary  Crawford  had  yet  closely 
scanned  the  face  before  her.  Now  the  troubled  eyes  looked 
closely  into  those  that  were  sometimes  so  radiant  with  mis- 
chief, but  now  so  solemnly  earnest.  The  look  was  very  long 
and  silent — an  evident  acceptance  of  the  strange  invitation 
given.  Before  it  was  ended,  that  subtle  magnetism  which 
truth  and  goodness  radiate  to  the  true,  had  done  its  work. 
She  cast  down  her  eyes. 

"  I  believe  you  to  be  true  and  good  P  she  said. 

"Thank  heaven  that  you  do  !"  spoke  Josephine.  "Now 
sit  down  in  that  chair  once  more,  and  do  not  rise  again  until 

1  have  spoken  what  I  must  speak  and  you  must  hear.  Do 
not  shrink,  faint  or  shudder,  though  I  may  say  a  few  terrible 
words !"  She  led  the  young  girl  back  to  her  chair,  pressed 
her  down  into  it,  and  drew  her  own  still  closer.  She  did  not 
release  her  hand  when  she  had  placed  her  in  that  position,  and 
she  fixed  her  eyes  full  upon  those  of  the  other,  which  made  an 
effort  to  escape,  and  then  surrendered  to  the  influence. 

"  Let  me  show  you  that  I  know  all,-1  she  said.  "  Yet  stop 
— let  me  first  assure  you  that  neither  Richard  Crawford  nor 
his  sister  knows  of  my  presence  in  this  place — that  neither  of 
them  has  the  least  suspicion  that  I  know  one  word  of  your 
family  relations." 

Mary  Crawford's  eyes  looked  into  hers  with  one  instant  of 
close  question ;  then  accain  they  surrendered,  and  were  gently 
reliant  though  still  full  of  trouble. 

"I  said  that  I  would  prove  to  you  that  I  knew  a//,"  Jo- 
sephine went  on.  "  I  will  do  so.  You  loved  Richard  Craw- 
ford, I  think,  and  he  loved  you  with  his  whole  heart.  Y"ou 
were  to  be  married,  and  the  large  property  of  your  father 
would  thus  be  kept  in  the  family.  A  few  months  ago  he 
ceased  coming  here  any  more,  and  you  heard  of  him  as  plunged 
into  riot  and  dissipation.  Then  you  heard  of  him  as  sick,  and 
that  his  sickness  was  the  result  of  the  foulest  excesses,  that 
had  broken  down  his  constitution  and  made  him  unfit  for  the 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  365 

society  of  any  true  woman.  You  began  to  answer  hi§  letters 
briefly  and  coldly,  and  then  you  ceased  answering  them  at  all. 
You  heard  those  reports — you  scarcely  knew  yourself  how 
you  heard  them,  but  I  do, — through  another  cousin,  Egbert 
Crawford,  wiio  has  taken  the  place  of  Richard." 

The  young  girl's  eyes  stared,  now,  and  she  moved  as  if  to 
rise,  but  the  hand  of  Josephine  on  her  arm  held  her  gently 
down,  and  her  words  went  on,  that  steady  gaze  still  fixed  upon 
her  as  before  : 

"  Every  one  of  those  words  was  a  lie,  and  Egbert  Crawford 
was  trying  to  break  your  heart  and  the  heart  of  the  man  who 
truly  loved  you,  that  he  might  win  you  and  your  wealth  !" 

"  How  do  you  know  this  ? — woman,  how  do  you  know 
this  V  broke  out  the  poor  girl,  her  agony  of  doubt  and  suffer- 
ing terrible  to  behold. 

"  I  know  it  as  if  God  had  revealed  it  to  me  from  heaven  !" 
said  Josephine  Harris,  casting  up  her  eyes  and  lifting  her 
hand  momentarily,  as  if  invoking  that  heaven  for  the  truth 
she  was  uttering.  "  Not  one  word  of  these  stories  of  Richard 
Crawford  was  true.  He  was  pure  and  good.  He  is  so,  in 
spite  of  wrong  and  neglect.  He  loves  you  still,  though  he  is 
almost  broken-hearted." 

u  Oh,  you  cannot  prove  these  things  to  me  !"  again  spoke 
Mary  Crawford,  the  trouble  in  her  eyes  still  deeper  than  be- 
fore, and  still  that  trouble  now  strangely  compounded  of  joy 
and  fear. 

11 1  can  and  I  will  !"  said  the  strange  mentor.  "Your  own 
heart  is  proving  them  to  you  at  this  moment.  You  see  how 
blind  you  have  been,  but  you  do  not  yet  know  all." 

"All?  what  more  can  there  be,  whether  I  am  to  believe 
you  or  not  ?"  asked  the  young  girl. 

"  More — much  more  !"  said  Josephine  Harris,  speaking  now 
almost  in  a  whisper.  "  Do  not  shriek  or  run  away  from  me  ; 
but  1  tell  you,  before  God,  Mary  Crawford,  that  for  weeks 
past — perhaps  for  months,  Egbert  Crawford  has  been  at- 
tempting to  murder  the  relative  he  wished  to  rival,  by 
poison." 

"  Poison  ?  oh  no,  oh  my  God  !"  cried  the  young  girl,  now 
no  longer  to  be  restrained,  and  starting  from  lrer  chair  in  un- 


366  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

controllable  agitation.     "You  are  mad — mad — and  you  are 
trying  to  make  me  so  !" 

"I  have  seen  him  apply  the  poison,"  said  the  strange  com- 
pound of  womanly  weakness  and  more  than  manly  strength 
— "seen  him  apply  it,  under  the  pretence  of  healing.  I  have 
seen  the  racking  pains  those  fiendish  practices  have  pro- 
duced, and  that  no  doctor's  skill  could  combat.  I  have  - 
him — yes,  I  believe  that  I  have  saved  him  !  You  do  not  yet 
quite  believe  all  the  wickedness  of  this  man  !  I  see  by  your 
eyes  that  you  do  not !  Bat  you  shall !  See  here  I"  and 
with  the  word  she  drew  from  the  pocket  of  her  dress  the 
very  bandage  which  she  had  exhibited  in  the  office  of  Doctor 
La  Turque,  and  unrolled  its  dark  loathsomeness — "  here  is 
th.e  very  poison  that  I  saw  him  apply  to  Richard  Crawford's 
heart,  warning  him  not  to  let  the  doctors  suspect  it,  because 
they  would  laugh  at  him  for  superstition.  I  have  stolen 
this — yes,  stolen  it,  from  the  spot  where  Richard  Crawford 
had  hidden  it  when  he  first  began  to  be  aware  of  the  terrible 
truth ;  I  have  tested  the  powers  of  the  unseen  world  to  bear 
witness  to  his  guilt ;  I  have  had  this  bandage  examined  by 
one  of  the  ablest  physicians  in  America,  and  it  is  poison — in- 
sidious, deadly  poison.  Egbert  Crawford  is  not  only  a  liar, 
but  a  murderer  /" 

"  Help^me  !  help  me  !  oh,  my  God,  what  shall  I  do  ?"  cried 
the  poor  girl,  staggering  as  if  about  to  fall,  and  only  pre- 
vented by  the  quick  arm  of  Josephine.  "  Do  you  know  what 
you  have  been  saying  to  me  ?  My  father  is  sinking  fast — his 
will  is  made — Egbert  Crawford,  whom  you  call  a  murderer, 
is  at  this  moment  at  my  home — I  am  to  marry  him  this 
very  day  !" 

"You  are  to  marry  him,  after  this  warning?"  said  Jo- 
sephine Harris,  looking  at  her  with  surprise  not  unmingled 
with  horror.  "Then  you  do  not  believe  me,  or  you  would 
marry  a  villain  !  You  are  not  glad  to  know  that  the  man  you 
once  loved,  and  who  yet  loves  you  so  dearly,  is  true  and  loyal  ? 
I  have  indeed  meddled  where  I  was  not  wanted,  and  Richard 
Crawford — indeed — indeed  she  was  not  worthy  of  you  f" 

"  Oh  no,  no  !  do  not  say  so  !"  cried  the  young  girl,  chang- 
ing so  suddenly  from  the  icy  misery  in  which  she  had  before 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  867 

stood,  that  Josephine  Harris  was  literally  bewildered  "I 
do  love  Richard  Crawford.  I  have  never  known  one  happy 
day  since  I  believed  him  unworthy  to  be  my  husband.  I  do 
believe  you,  dear,  good  girl,  and  I  do  thank  you  from  my  soul 
for  all  you  have  done  to  serve  me  !  But  oh,  I  am  so  miser- 
able and  so  helpless  !  What  shall  I  do  ?  what  shall  I  do  ?» 
Before  she  had  ceased  speaking,  she  had  literally  flung  her- 
self on  her  knees,  embracing  the  bottom  of  Josephine's  gar- 
ment, clinging  to  her  as  if  there  was  no  dependence  in*the 
world  beyond,  and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

Josephine  Harris  was  melted  in  a  moment,  and  nearly 
heart-broken  herself,  at  the  sight  of  the  young  girl's  misery ; 
but  oh,  what  a  gleam  of  joy  underlay  the  sorrow  !  She  was 
not  misunderstood  !— she  had  not  been  laboring  in  vain  ! 
Happy  Joe— even  in  the  midst  of  her  pain  and  anxiety  ! 

She  raised  the  poor  alarmed  and  sorrowing  girl  from  her 
position  of  pleading  and  humiliation,  took  the  chair  that  had 
just  been  vacated,  and  drew  her  clown  upon  her  own  lap  as 
if  she  had  been  a  mother  or  an  elder  sister. 

",  What  shall  I  do  ?"  still  repeated  the  troubled  lips,  through 
choking  sobs.  " 1  cannot  escape  now.  It  is  too  late.  Poor 
Richard  !— poor  wronged  Richard  !  I  have  deserved  my 
fate,  for  being  so  untrue  to  him.  What  shall  I  do  ?  What 
shall  I  do  ?" 

"  Do  ?"  said  Josephine  Harris,  smoothing  down  her  hair  and 
striving  to  comfort  her  at  the  same  time  that  she  braced  up 
her  nerves  for  what  must  follow.  "  Do  ?  Why  send  Colonel 
Egbert  Crawford  packing—that  is  the  first  step." 

"  Oh,  I  cannot !"  moaned  the  young  girl.  "  It  would  kill 
my  poor  old  father,  to  have  any  trouble  in  the  house,  rfow  • 
and  I  must  marry  that  man,  though  I  have  never  loved  Mm— 
and  he,  oh  heavens  ! — a  murderer  1" 

"  Well,  if  you  do  marry  him,"  said  Joe,  with  something  of 
her  old  manner,  justifying  the  resumption  of  her  pet  name, 
"all  that  I  can  say,  is,  that  I  hope  you  will  have  a  happy 
time  of  it !" 

"  Why  do  you  speak  so  ?"  asked  the  poor  girl.  "  Why  do 
you  speak  so  lightly  when  I  am  so'wretched  ?" 

"Because  I  do  not  mean  that  you  shall  remain  wretched," 


368  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

was  the  answer.  "  Hold  up  your  Load,  now,  Mary — may  1 
not  call  you  Mary,  dear  Mary  !  Hold  up  your  head,  like  a 
brave  girl,  and  listen  to  me." 

Her  frightened  companion  made  an  effort  to  do  so,  and 
she  went  on  : 

"  You  believe  that  I  have  been  right  in  what  I  have  said, 
do  you  not  ?     And  that  I  am  a  true  friend  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed  I  do  I" 

"Then  obey  me  now!"  she  continued,  rapidly  shaping 
into  words  the  thoughts  that  had  been  for  a  few  moments 
assuming  consistency  in  her  brain.  "Do  precisely  as  I  tell 
you,  nothing  less  and  nothing  more,  and  this  marriage"  will 
break  itself,  without  one  word  from  you." 

"  Oh,  how  can  that  be  possible  V  asked  the  trembler. 

"  Sit  down  in  that  chair  for  a  few  minutes,  and  don't  mind 
me!"  and  in  a  moment  she  had  transferred  her  burden  to  the 
chair.  In  another  she  had  flung  open  one  of  the  end  shutters 
of  the  room,  drawn  a  small  table  towards  the  window,  opened 
upon  it  her  portable  writing-desk  (an  article  of  use  without 
which  she  never  travelled),  and  was  hastily  scribbling,  though 
with  a  hand  that  shook  a  little  at  its  own  boldness — the  fol- 
lowing note  : — 

West  Falls,  Sunday,  July  6th  (no<fn). 

Col.  Egbert  Crawford: — 

You  will  probably  recognize  the  name  at  the  bottom  of  this,  as 
that  of  one  you  bave  often  seen,  but  of  whom  you  know  very  little. 
No  one  but  myself  knows  anything  of  the  contents.  You  are  dis- 
covered— detected.  I  have  watched  you  and  overheard  your  con- 
versation, for  days  past,  at  the  house  of  Richard  Crawford.  What  is 
more,  I  have  the  poisoned  bandage  in  my  pocket,  after  having  had  it 
analyzed  by  a  chemist.  If  you  leave  at  once,  without  attempting 
to  consummate  any  more  of  your  designs,  you  are  safe  from  any 
exposure — I  promise  you  so  much,  on  the  honor  of  a  true  woman. 
If  you  are  not  gone  before  to-morrow  morning,  without  any  further 
attempt  at  entangling  Mary  Crawford,  I  promise  you.  in  the  name 
of  God  who  sees  us  both  at  this  moment,  that  I  will  not  only  expose 
you  before  John  Crawford  and  his  family,  but  that  I  will  do  what 
I  can  to  bring  you  to  justice.  Mary  Crawford  knows  all  your  false- 
hood and  crime,  but  she,  like  myself,  will  keep  silence  when  you 

are  gone.  ,  TT 

Josephine  Harris. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  369 

Mary  Crawford  had  been  Bitting  still  in  her  chair,  leaning 
her  head  upon  her  hand  and  not  even  looking  up,  while  Jo- 
sephine's pen  was  rapidly  running  over  the  paper.  (The  phrase 
is  a  proper  one — Joseph's  pen  ran,  always,  when  she  attempted 
to  write,  and  as  a  consequence  her  chirography  was  not  the 
easiest  in  the  world  to  be  deciphered.  No  fear,  however,  but 
that  what  she  wrote  in  this  instance  could  be  read  !)  When 
she  had  concluded  and  was  rising  from  the  desk,  Mary  first 
looked  up,  and  there  was  such  an  expression  of  abject  and 
almost  hopeless  helplessness  upon  her  face,  that  had  Josephine 
not  pitied  her  before,  she  must  now  have  done  so.  That  look 
said  so  plainly  :  "  Can  you  indeed  help  me  ?  Is  it  possible 
that  I  can  ever  be  lifted  out  of  this  pit  of  despair  ?" — that  the 
city  girl  accepted  it  instead  of  words,  and  answered  it. 

*!  Yes,  you  need  not  look  so  doleful,  my  dear  girl !  I  think 
you  will  find  that  this  little  epistle  will  do  more  than  an  or- 
dinary volume  could  do.  See — I  have  sealed  it,  as  is  best.  I 
have  said,  within,  that  you  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  con- 
tents, and  at  the  same  time  I  have  said  that  you  knew  all  his 
baseness  and  treachery." 

"  Oh,  have  you  ?"  said  the  suffering  girl.  "  How  can  I 
ever  meet  him,  after  that — when  he  knows  that  I  have  heard 
him  spoken  of  in  so  terrible  a  manner  ?" 

"  You  can  even  do  that,  a  little  better  than  you  could  lay 
your  hand  in  his  and  promise  to  be  his  wife,  I  should  think !" 
said  the  other,  and  there  was  even  some  sternness  in  her  tone. 

"  Oh  yes,  yes,  anything  rather  than  become  his  beyond 
hope  !"  cried  Mary,  and  there  was  such  a  shudder  running 
over  her  frame  for  the  instant,  that  her  guide  and  mentor 
fully  understood  what  must  be  the  depth  of  the  fear  with 
which  she  had  become  inspired.  "  You  have  been  so  good 
to  me — so  kind  and  generous,  that  I  can  never  thank  you  for 
what  you  have  done.  Command  me,  now — tell  me  what  I 
must  do,  and  I  will  obey  you  like  a  child — a  poor,  weak 
child  as  I  am." 

"  I  do  believe  that  you  thank  and  trust  me,"  said  Jose- 
phine, all  her  tender  self  again  instantly,  and  grasping  her 
warmly  by  the  hand.  "  Many  people  think  me  a  rattle-brain, 
I  suppose,  and  my  advice  may  sometimes  seem  very  odd  and 


370  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

rash  ;  but  I  am  sure  that  heaven  has  intended  me  for  the  in- 
strument of  foiling  that  man  who  would  be  your  destroyer, 
and  I  know  that  I  shall  not  fail.  Please  do  precisely  as  I 
ask — give  Egbert  Crawford  that  letter  without  a  word,  and 
see  if  it  does  not  produce  the  effect  I  have  intended." 

"  I  will  do  so,  and  trust  that  Heaven  upon  which  you  call, 
to  save  me  from  wrong  and  bring  about  the  right  I'-  answered 
Mary  Crawford. 

"  The  omens  are  all  good,"  said  Josephine,  who  really  had 
in  her  nature  a  shade  of  impressibility,  if  not  of  superstition. 
"  This  is  Sunday — a  day  for  good  deeds  and  not  for  evil  ones. 
This  night  you  were  to  have  been  married  :  I  arrived  just  in 
time  to  put  you  on  your  guard.  All  will  go  well,  and  I  shall 
see  you  free  from  a  fetter  so  hateful  and  the  wife  of  an  honor- 
able man  whom  I  love  as  if  he  were  my  own  brother." 

"  God  bless  you  for  all !"  said  Mary.  "  Kiss  me  before  I 
go — my  more  than  sister." 

"  Just  what  I  was  going  to  ask  of  you,11  said  Joe  Harris, 
who  had  great  faith,  and  was  not  ashamed  to  own  the  fact, 
in  the  magnetism  of  the  lips.  The  kiss  was  exchanged,  with 
a  warm  embrace  as  an  accompaniment,  and  then  Mary  Craw- 
ford said : 

"  I  must  go  at  once,  before  I  am  missed  and  too  much  won- 
der excited.  I  will  try  to  obey  all  your  directions.  I  shall 
see  you  again  ? — you  will  not  leave  West  Falls  until — until — " 

"  Until  you  are  safe  ?  No  !  Xot  if  I  stay  a  month  !" 
was  the  reply.  "If  that  letter  fails,  something  else  shall 
not!  Good-b}*e,  and  let  me  hear  from  you  to-morrow,  or 
even  to-day  if  anything  occurs.  But  remember,  no  marriage 
to-night,  if  you  have  to  run  away  here  to  escape  it !" 

"Oh,  no  !  no  !  no  !  Good-bye  !"  and  the  young  girl  had 
passed  out  of  the  door  and  into  the  street,  bearing  the  second 
letter  which  had  that  day  left  the  little  house  for  the  great 
one  on  the  hill,  and  bearing — oh,  what  a  terrible  change  in 
knowledge  and  feeling  since  she  had  entered  the  door  less 
than  an  hour  before  !  Her  brain  throbbed  almost  to  burst- 
ing, and  every  nerve  in  her  body  seemed  to  be  strung  to  an 
unendurable  tension,  as  she  left  the  little  gate  and  took  her 
way  homeward.     She  was  wretched,  in  the  knowledge  of 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  371 

guilt  and  wrong  which  had  been  imparted  to  her,  and  in  the 
fear  of  the  future,  which  she  could  not  shake  away ;  but  she 
confided,  spite  of  herself,  in  the  counsel  which  had  been  given 
her,  and  there  was  a  happiness  out-weighing  all  the  misery, 
in  the  knowledge  that  the  idol  of  her  young  heart  was  not  a 
base  and  miserable  counterfeit.  The  gulf  between  Richard 
Crawford  and  herself  might  have  grown  too  wide  to  be  over- 
leaped— she  might  have  become,  to  him,  only  a  name  to  be 
regretted  and  yet  despised — but  it  was  still  something  in  life 
to  know  that  he  was  true  and  worthy,  even  if  he  was  to  be 
nothing  more  to  her  ;  and  the  foot  of  the  young  girl  trod 
more  firmly  upon  the  green  sward  of  the  pathway  than  it 
had  done  for  many  a  long  month,  and  half  the  languor  was 
gone  from  eye  and  nerve,  as  she  walked  slowly  home  ward 
through  the  summer  noon,  to  try  that  strange  experiment 
upon  which  she  felt  that  the  happiness  or  misery  of  her 
whole  future  life  might  depend. 

As  for  Josephine  Harris,  those  who  know  the  depressions 
which  sometimes  fall  upon  high  nervous  organizations  after 
severe  and  continued  effort,  scarcely  need  be  told  that  she  was 
almost  prostrated  the  moment  she  felt  that  her  work  was  for 
the  time  concluded.  She  had  been  suffering  with  throbbing 
temples  and  a  too-rapid  motion  about  the  heart,  during  a 
large  part  of  her  conversation  with  Mary  Crawford  ;  and  when 
Aunt  Betsey,  seeing  from  the  window  the  departure  of  Mary, 
and  little  Susan,  recalled  by  the  voice  of  her  cousin,  re-entered 
the  sitting-room,  they  found  Joe  shedding  tears  like  a  great 
baby  and  sobbing  a  little,  with  a  fair  prospect  of  an  afternoon 
and  night  in  the  company  of  that  most  unromantic  of  com- 
panions— sick-headache. 

It  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence  how  much  of  the  conver- 
sation which  had  just  passed,  Josephine  narrated  to  her  aunt 
and  cousin.  Enough  to  satisfy  their  proper  curiosity  and  give 
them  assurance  that  she  had  succeeded  in  her  attempt  at  first 
alarming  and  then  winning  the  confidence  of  the  young  girl, 
and  nothing  more.  Neither  asked  more,  for  both  felt,  beyond 
a  doubt,  that  there  might  have  been  confidences  in  that  conver- 
sation, too  sacred  to  be  revealed  to  other  ears. 

The  sick-headache  did  come,  as  it  had  promised  ;  and  Joe 


372  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Harris,  ber  temples  bathed  with  cologne  by  the  willing  hands 
of  little  Susy,  wenfc  up  to  an  enforced  siesta  in  her  little  bed- 
room. But  she  had  the  satisfaction,  as  the  drowsy  hum  of 
the  summer  afternoon  gradually  lulled  her  into  slumber,  of 
saying  to  herself — the  best  of  all  auditors  for  those  who  have 
sound  hearts  and  clear  consciences : 

"  I  thought  I  would  do  it — I  meant  to  do  it — and  may  I 
never  play  detective  again  if  I  don't  believe  I  that  I  have  done 
it  l» 


CHAPTER    XXIY. 


John  Crawford  and  His  Xephew — The  Wreck  of  a  Work- 
ing Man — The  Episode  of  the  Cock — TnE  Effect  of 
Josephine  Harris's  Letter,  and  an  Exodus. 

In  order  to  demonstrate  more  clearly  the  state  of  affairs  be- 
fore existing  at  the  house  of  John  Crawford,  and  the  effect 
really  produced  by  the  missive  (it  might  almost  as  well  have 
been  called  a  missile)  ot  Josephine  Harris, — it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  change  the  point  of  view  to  the  big  house  on  the  hill, 
at  a  little  before  noon  on  that  pleasant  Sunday  of  summer. 

The  back  piazza  of  the  house  looked  north  and  eastward 
over  a  slight  depression  which  might  almost  be  called  a  valley, 
and  then  at  the  range  of  hills  rising  behind  and  stretching 
downward  on  the  other  side  almost  to  the  Mohawk.  Nearer, 
it  looked  out  upon  an  extensive  garden,  carefully  laid  out  and 
thriftily  in  growth  with  all  the  ground-fruits  and  vegetables 
natural  to  the  climate,  at  that  time  in  full  luxuriance.  Around 
the  high  board  fences  of  the  garden  stood  an  almost  endless 
variety  of  fruit-trees,  the  cherry-trees  at  that  moment  literally 
red,  or  black,  or  amber,  as  the  case  might  be,  with  those  delicious 
little  globules  of  pulpy  fruit-flesh  which  seem  like  drops  of 
fragrant  sweetness  squeezed  from  the  very  heart  of  Xature. 
Among  them  stood  apple  and  pear-trees,  each  loaded  with 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  373 

the  growing  fruit  of  that  wonderful  fruit-season,  in  which  the 
smile  of  God  seemed  resting  broadly  on  the  whole  American 
con,  front  in  the  wealth  and  variety  of  its  productions,  however 
his  hand  may  have  been  smiting  it  with  the  desolations  of 
personal  strife  and  bloodshed. 

Digressions  have  become  so  common  during  the  course  of 
this  narration,  that  if  the  later  ones  are  not  excusable  on  the 
score  of  propriety,  they  at  leaat  have  that  excuse  which  is  held 
to  be  so  important  by  the  lawyers  and  the  statesmen— prece- 
I  dent.  And  having  already  sinned  in  that  regard,  beyond  any 
hope  of  forgiveness  and  almost  beyond  any  feeling  of  account- 
ability for  the  erratieism  of  the  pen—let  us  pause  here,  under 
the  reminder  of  those  hanging  fruits  in  John  Crawford's  garden, 
to  say  that  while  perhaps  no  nation  has  ever  before  been  so 
cursed  with  an  extended  civil  war  as  this  once  free  and  happy 
republic  during  the  past  two  years— yet  no  nation,  plunged 
into  any  description  of  conflict,  has  ever  been  so  favored  of 
Heaven  with  the  means  for  carrying  it  on  and  so  delivered  of 
Heaven  from  the  dangers  of  famine  and  pestilence  which  so 
often  accompany  the  other  affliction. 

At  no  period  in  the  history  of  any  nation  in  the  world, 
could  the  statistics  of  that  country  exhibit  the  same  amount 
of  material  wealth  and  power  of  production  as  those  shown 
by  the  loyal  States  of  the  American  Union  at  the  moment  of 
the  breaking  out  of  the  Rebellion— the  capabilities  of  the  se- 
ceding States  being  left  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Private 
coffers  and  the  vaults  of  our  banks  were  alike  full  of  gold, 
which  had  been  for  years  flowing  in  and  amassing  from  the 
mines  of  California  and  the  favorable  course  of  foreign  ex- 
changes. AVe  had  been  feeding  the  world,  and  at  the  same 
time  supplying  ourselves  and  the  world  with  more  than  half 
the  precious  metals  yearly  contributed  to  the  hoards  of  the 
nations  ;  and  that  the  country  should  literally  have  become 
"  full  of  money,"  was  inevitable.  But  more  especially  did  we 
hold  power  over  the  wiiole  world  in  our  capacities  for  fruit- 
growing and  in  our  stores  of  bread-stuffs  already  amassed. 
With  proper  management  of  our  resources,  the  latter  fact 
alone  might  have  made  the  whole  world  tributary  to  us,  and 
we  could  have  dictated  terms  in  war  as  well  as  in  peace! 


374:  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

When  a  certain  young  Lieutenant  in  the  British  naval  ser- 
vice, from  the  China  fleet,  crossed  from  Hong  Kong  to  San 
Francisco  on  his  way  home  on  leave,  in  1861,  and  then  came 
by  the  overland  route  from  San  Francisco  to  Xew  York,  he 
fell  into  conversation  in  this  city  with  a  friend  whom  he  had 
known  in  England  ;  and  as  there  were  then  rumors  of  trouble 
with  Great  Britain  growing  out  of  her  expected  help  to  the 
rebels,  that  conversation  very  naturally  turned  towards  the 
relative  wealth  and  power  of  the  two  countries. 

'•Well,  I  do  hope,"  said  the  young  English  officer,  "that 
there  will  not  be  any  trouble  between  the  two  countries,  be- 
cause we  don't  want  to  fight  you,  you  know  !" 

u  And  so  do  I,"  said  his  friend.  "  The  people  of  America 
do  not  bear  any  ill  will  to  the  people  or  the  government  of 
England." 

"But  we  should  beat  you  if  we  did  fight,  you  know,"  pur- 
sued the  Englishman,  with  John  Bull's  tenacity  of  national 
pride. 

'*  Think  so  ?"  asked  the  other,  with  the  slightest  suspicion 
of  a  sneer  upon  his  lip. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't  think  anything  about  it — I  know  it,"  said 
the  Englishman.     u  Why,  you  haven't  got  any  navy." 

"  The  deuce  we  haven't !"  observed  the  other.  "  I  guess 
you  have  not  seen  our  navy !" 

"  Xo  ! — nor  has  any  one  else  seen  an  armament  worthy  of 
the  name,"  said  the  Englishman,  of  course  supposing  that  he 
referred  to  the  dozen  of  old  and  worm-eaten  wooden  ships 
that  then  made  up  our  whole  preparation  for  contesting  the 
empire  of  the  seas.  "  Why  any  one  of  bur  half  dozen  fleets 
would  eat  up  your  whole  navy  in  half  an  hour.  If  you  had 
seen  our  Baltic  fleet  reviewed  at  Spithead,  as  I  did  just  at 
the  close  of  the  Crimean  war,  you  would  know  something  of 
what  the  word  '  navy '  meant,  and  you  would  also  have  some 
idea,  you  know,  of  what  a  chance  you  would  have  at  fighting 
England  !" 

"  Humph  !  well,  yes,  you  havie  a  pretty  long  string  of 
vessels,  such  as  they  are,"  said  his  American  friend.  "  But 
I  told  you  that  you  did  not  know  anything  about  our  navy, 
and  you  do  not.     You  speak  of  the  'Baltic  fleet.'    Xow  what 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  37-3 

will  you  say  when  I  tell  you  that  at  one  point  on  the  Missis- 
sippi we  have  a  line  of  gun-boats  that  would  knock  not  only 
your  Baltic  fleet  but  all  the  rest  of  your  fleets  into  smithe- 
reens, without  even  firing  a  gun  ?" 

'I  Why  I  should  only  say  that  you  were  crazy,  as  I  think 
you  are!"  said  the  Englishman,  really  expecting  that  his 
friend  would  by-and-bye  attempt  to  demonstrate  that  tho 
easiest  way  of  travelling  was  by  walking  on  the  head  instead 
of  .the  feet, 

"  Yes,  I  dare-say  you  do,"  said  the  American.  "  And  yet 
I  am  not  crazy.  The  only  thing  is  that  you  do  not  yet  un- 
derstand me.  The  line  of  gun-boats  of  which  I  speak,  is  a 
line  of  warehouses  at  Chicago,  containing  at  this  moment 
from  six  to  ten  millions  of  bushels  of  grain,  constantly  empty- 
ing and  constantly  being  replenished.  That  is  the  line  of 
gun-boats  to  fight  the  world,  and  we  can  conquer  the  world 
if  we  only  use  them  correctly.  We  can  live  within  ourselves, 
without  buying  one  dollar's- worth  of  anything  from  any 
nation  abroad,  except  possibly  tea  (for  we  can  make  our  own 
coffee  while  we  can  grow  peas  and  beans);  and  there  is  not 
another  nation  on  the  globe  that  can  do  the  same.  !\rot  a 
nation  of  you  all  but  must  have  our  breadstuffs  or  go  hungry; 
and  the  sailors  of  your  '  Baltic  fleet'  would  not  fight  well, 
I  fancy,  on  empty  stomachs." 

"  Humph  !"  said  the  Englishman.  "  That  is  an  odd  view 
to  take  of  war."  But  he  said  no  more,  and  was  evidently 
thinking.  He  had  grounds  for  thought,  and  so  had  the 
whole  world.  We  had  the  element  of  success  in  our  own 
hands,  in  the  capacity  of  living  within  ourselves.  Had  our 
resources  been  properly  managed,  the  importation  of  all 
foreign  goods  prohibited  during  the  period  of  the  war,  and 
the  exportation  of  gold  and  breadstuffs  forbidden  and  guarded 
against  by  the  closest  watch  and  the  most  stringent  penalties, 
with  our  people  practicing  the  self-denial  and  economy  of  the 
men  and  women  of  the  Revolution,  setting  their  spinning- 
wheels  and  looms  once  more  in  motion  and  wearing  home- 
spuns instead  of  imported  broadcloths  and  satins, had  these 

steps  been  taken,  as  they  should  have  been  taken,  starvation 
would  have  fallen  upon  half  Europe,  and  the  rebellion  would 


376  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

long  before  this  time*  have  perished  from  its  own  weakness? 
or  been  crushed  out,  from  sheer  necessity,  by  the  European 
powers  whose  very  existence  its  continuance  was  perilling. 

The  smile  of  God  has  not  been  withdrawn  from  our  fields 
and  orchards;  we  have  been  continued  in  national  health 
and  still  supplied  with  all  the  luxuries  of  production  and 
abundance;  and  yet  what  is  the  use  which  we  have  made  of 
these  immense  advantages,  and  what  thanks  have  we  ren- 
dered to  the  Supreme  Being  in  those  two  most  acceptable  of 
worships,  labor  and  success,  for  the  health  and  wealth  thus 
given  and  continued  ? 

But  these  reflections  over,  which  have  sprung  from  the 
fruit  glistening  on  the  trees  in  John  Crawford's  garden,  the 
course  of  this  narration  reverts  to  two  who  occupied  the  back 
piazza  of  the  mansion  at  that  hour  of  Sunday  noon.  The 
piazza  was  a  broad  one,  old-fashioned  like  the  house,  with 
pillars  of  locust,  planed  and  cornered  instead  of  being  turned 
or  fluted  in  the  more  modern  fashion.  Both  the  ends  and 
the  side  for  a  considerable  distance  towards  the  centre,  were 
enclosed  by  a  low  railing  in  pale  ;  and  the  western  end  had 
lattice-work  extending  to  the  tops  of  the  pillars,  with  the 
leaves  and  tendrils  of  a  large  grape-vine  that  had  been  planted 
many  years  before  at  the  corner,  running  over,  twisting  and 
interlacing  in  the  lattice,  and  making  a  pleasant  flickering 
shade  of  the  summer  sunshine  on  the  floor  of  the  piazza. 
A  few  birds,  not  yet  thoroughly  exhausted  by  the  noon-day 
heat,  were  chirping  in  the  thick  branches  of  the  fruit-trees 
near,  and  the  drowsy  hum  and  chirp  of  insect  life  made  such 
a  sleepy  undertone  as  could  not  fail  to  bring  rest  and  quiet  to 
any  mind  not  preternaturally  active.  A  more  charming  place 
could  not  have  been  devised,  for  a  half-dreamy  and  lazy 
student  of  either  sex  to  sit  down  in  an  easy  chair  with  a 
pleasant  book,  read  and  muse  until  the  flickering  of  the  sun- 
shine and  the  shadows  on  the  floor  began  to  be  blended  with 
the  type  of  the  page,  and  then  fall  away  to  the  lightest  and 
happiest  of  slumbers. 

There  were  two  figures  on  the  western  end  of  the  piazza, 

*  March  7th,  1S63. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  377 

under  the  shade  of  the  grape-vine.  The  first  was  that  of  an 
old  man,  sitting  in  a  high-backed  easy-chair,  his  feet  upon  a 
carpet-covered  ottoman,  leaning  back,  and  if  not  in  physical 
slumber,  at  least  in  that  inertia  of  the  mind  which  denotes 
Jailing  physical  faculties  and  marks  a  slumber  more  complete 
than  that  of  shut  eyes  and  stertorous  breathing.  Apparently 
be  was  very  old,  for  his  hair  was  thin  and  nearly  white,  as  it 
showed  from  beneath  the  colored  silk  handkerchief  thrown 
loosely  over  the  back  of  his  head ;  his  skin  had  that  shrivelled 
and  wrinkled  appearance,  denoting  that  the  life-fluids  had 
been  exhausted  beneath  it ;  his  eyes,  when  opened,  had  that 
white  opacity  more  melancholy  than  apparent  blindness,  be- 
cause it  shows  a  sight  which  after  all  takes  in  and  recognizes 
nothing;  and  his  thin  lips  had  that  constant  tremulous  mo- 
tion which  indicates  a  continual  desire  to  speak,  with  scarcely 
the  power  of  doing  so  and  with  little  more  than  the  remnants 
of  a  mind  left  to  dictate  what  shall  be  uttered.  John  Craw- 
ford was,  in  short,  a  miserable  human  wreck,  all  its  pride, 
beauty  and  power  shorn  and  swept  away,  and  drifting  help- 
lessly on  to  that  lee-shore  which  is  called  death. 

There  was  one  peculiar  feature  of  his  situation  which  has 
not  yet  been  named,  and  yet  it  was  the  most  noticeable  of  all 
connected  with  him.  From  head  to  foot,  sleeping  or  waking, 
at  all  times  and  under  all  circumstances,  his  nervous  system 
was  shaking  and  shivering,  keeping  the  head  in  that  contin- 
ual quiver  which  is  so  melancholy  to  behold  because  it  sug- 
gests involuntary  labor  that  must  exhaust  and  wear  out  the 
system,  and  making  the  weak  hand  so  ungovernable  that  even 
the  cup  of  tea  put  to  his  mouth  required  to  be  held  and  guided 
by  others  to  prevent  the  contents  being  spilled  and  the  vessel 
falling  to  the  floor.  Nothing  could  be  more  pitiable,  when 
watched  for  a  considerable  time  and  when  the  impression 
forced  itself  upon  the  observer  that  at  no  single  moment  would 
that  tremor  ever  grow  still  until  the  spoiler  had  completed 
his  work,  and  the  limbs  should  stiffen  and  straighten  in  the 
last  chill  of  mortality. 

And  yet  John  Crawford  was  really  by  no  means  the  very 
old  man  indicated  by  his  white  hairs,  his  dimmed  eyes  and 
his  palsied  shiverings.     He  was  very  little  past  sixty,  and  at 


g78  SHOULDER-STRAPS 

an  age  when  under  ordinary  circumstances  several  years  of 
pleasant  life  might  have  been  calculated  upon.  Nor  was  he 
the  victim  of  constitutional  disease,  which  had  been  fought  and 
combatted  until  it  had  at  last  triumphed  and  brought  down 
the  torn  banner  of  manhood  trailing  in  the  dust.  And  still 
less  had  a  life  of  early  indulgence  and  evil  courses  laid  the 
mine  for  this  after-destruction.  He  was  not  old  to  senility  ; 
he  belonged  to  a  family  that  had  been  noted  for  their  long  life, 
continued  vigor  and  freedom  from  hereditary  di  and  he 

had  carefully  avoided  those  errors  in  drink,  food  and  personal 
indulgence  which  open  the  doors  of -life's  citadel  to  the  invader 
from  beyond  the  dark  valley.  What,  then,  was  the  fatal  se- 
cret ?  John  Crawford  was  a  suicide,  and  he  had  chosen  a 
peculiarly  American  mode  of  self-immolation.  Or  perhaps 
it  may  with  more  propriety  be  said  that  he  was  a  Fau.^t  in 
ordinary  life,  and  that  he  had  called  upon  a  national  demon 
to  be  his  aid  and  his  foe.  He  had  worked  himself  to  death — 
a  phrase  by  many  supposed  to  be  hollow  and  unmeaning,  but 
one  too  sadly  illustrated  every  day  in  our  modern  life. 

Born  wealthy,  he  seemed  to  have  imbibed  with  his  earliest 
breath  the  impression  that  he  was  comparatively  poor,  and 
that  only  the  most  laborious  drudgery  of  mind  and  body,  to 
which  the  toil  of  the  slave  in  the  cotton-field  is  little  more  than 
play,  could  keep  him  from  becoming  still  poorer.  He  had 
been  a  miser  at  once  of  his  pennies  and  his  hours,  when  a 
boy ;  and  as  he  had  grown  older  he  had  become  a  still  worse 
miser  in  every  opportunity  for  gain,  and  a  reckless  spend- 
thrift of  his  own  comfort  and  energy.  No  laborer  on  his  farm 
had  worked  so  many  hours  or  so  laboriously,  the  impn 
having  seemed  all  the  while  to  abide  with  him  that  if  he  did 
not  labor  he  would  have  only  eye-service,  and  nothing  would 
be  left  him.  "When  others  had  slept,  and  he  had  been  de- 
barred from  laboring  with  his  hands,  he  had  still  toiled  with 
his  brain,  turning  restlessly  on  his  bed  when  he  should  have 
slept,  and  planning  to  make  his  fertile  acres  still  more  pro- 
ductive or  to  add  to  them  others  that  lay  in  tempting  prox- 
imity. When  hours  of  relaxation  had  been  demanded  by  the 
calls  of  friendship,  and  even  by  the  inexorable  demands 
own  system,  he  had  shut  his  ears  and   refused,  as  if  puttin; 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  879 

behind  his  back  some  tempter  of  the  soul.  Friends  had  said 
to  him  :  "John,  you  are  killing  yourself!"  or  "John,  you  are 
working  too  hard  and  too  steadily  !  Some  day  you  will  pay 
for  all  this."  And  one  day  a  blunt-spoken  rustic  neighbor, 
observing  him  at  his  toil  early  and  late,  had  said  :  "  John 
Crawford,  you  are  a  fool !  You  do  too  much  work  !  You  have 
a  fine  constitution,  and  think  that  you  can  take  liberties  with 
it;  but  some  day  it  will  pay  you,  mark  my  words  !  You  will 
find  yourself,  one  fine  morning,  doubled  up  like  an  old  horse 
that  has  been  over-driven  ;  and  that  will  be  the  end  of  you  ! 
But  go  on,  if  you  like  it"!" 

John  Crawford  had  "  gone  on."  He  had  married  very  late 
in  life,  principally  on  account  of  his  belief  that  no  man  should 
marry  until  he  had  done  his  life-work  and  placed  himself  be- 
yond anxiety  on  the  score  of  property.  When  the  day  of 
his  marriage  came,  after  an  engagement  of  nearly  ten  years, 
people  had  long  been  saying  that  the  woman  of  his  choice, 
his  "  Mary,"  had  already  worried  away  the  best  part  of  her 
life  in  anxiety  for  him  and  in  fears  for  the  final  prevention  of 
their  union.  Then,  when  the  marriage  was  finally  consum- 
mated and  those  who  loved  him  best  hoped  that  he  would 
relax  in  his  life- wearing  toil,  he  had  merely  commenced  to 
work  the  harder,  because  a  married  man  needed  to  be  better 
circumstanced  than  a  single  one  !  And  when,  five  or  six 
years  after  his  marriage,  and  after  giving  birth  to  his  one 
daughter  and  only  child,  Mary,  his  wife  died,  he  had  gone  to 
work  still  harder,  it  seemed,  as  the  only  means  of  forgetting 
his  bereavement !  Rain  or  shine — early  and  late — year  after 
year,  he  had  labored  on,  enriching  his  lands  and  increasing 
his  out-buildings,  adding  new  acres  and  putting  a  few  more 
thousands  to  those  already  out  at  interest  on  good  bond-and 
mortgage. 

One  day — some  two  years  before  the  date  of  this  story — 
the  crash  had  come.  The  "old  horse"  had  "doubled  up." 
John  Crawford  had  not  come  down  to  breakfast  at  his  usual 
time,  and  those  who  went  up  to  look  after  him  had  first  dis- 
covered what  ruin  could  do  in  a  single  night.  The  hale  man 
of  the  night  before  had  become  a  partial  paralytic,  helpless 
from  that  day  forward — never  again  to  lift  hand  in  any  em- 
24 


380  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

ployment,  and  scarcely  permitted  brain  enough  to  realize  all 
that  he  had  won  and  all  that  he  had  lost.  Gradually,  afterwards, 
his  mind  had  cleared  and  his  speech  returned,  though  feebly ; 
but  during  all  the  two  years  his  nervous  prostration  had  been 
increasing  and  his  bodily  strength  declining,  until  for  weeks 
before  that  Sunday  of  July  the  physicians  had  pronounced 
him  gradually  dying  and  expected  him  to  drop  away  at  any 
moment. 

Such  was  half  the  picture  presented  at  the  end  of  tho 
piazza,  the  other  half  being  made  up  of  Colonel  Egbert  Craw- 
ford, his  military  coat  changed  to  a  blouse  of  brown  linen  and 
his  boots  replaced  by  a  pair  of  embroidered  slippers,  but  in 
all  other  regards  quite  as  we  have  before  seen  him,  and  alto- 
gether the  legitimate  commander  of  the  Two  Hundredth 
Volunteers.  During  all  his  late  visits  to  the  farm,  and  espe- 
cially since  the  defection  and  ostracism  of  Richard,  he  had 
made  his  "strong  point"  in  paying  great  attention  to  the 
infirm  old  gentleman ;  and  as  personal  attention  is  always 
pleasant  and  nattering,  and  more  particularly  so  to  the  old, 
crippled,  tedious  and  tiresome,  he  had  succeeded  in  winning 
a  place  in  the  old  man's  regard,  by  this  course,  which  he 
might  have  failed  to  secure  by  any  other  means. 

On  this  particular  morning  he  was  rather  well  pleased  than 
otherwise  to  see  Mary  throw  on  her  flat  and  run  out  to  make 
a  call  on  some  one  of  the  neighbors,  as  this  gave  him  an  op- 
portunity, on  this  his  last  day  of  probation,  of  making  him- 
self very  devoted  to  his  prospective  father-in-law,  without  any 
serious  drain  upon  his  own  personal  comfort  and  energy.  To 
wait  upon  the  old  man,  after  he  had  been  got  up  and  dressed 
for  the  morning  and  assisted  out  to  the  cool  piazza,  as  in  this 
instance — consisted  of  very  little  more  than  answering  the 
few  words  which  the  invalid  might  happen  to  address  him 
(and  they  were  likely  to  be  very  few), — brushing  away  a 
troublesome  fly  when  the  old  man  sunk  into  a  doze  and  the 
pest  came  too  near  his  nose, — moving  him  a  little  if  the  sun 
happened  to  become  troublesome  through  the  vines, — or  pick- 
ing up  and  restoring  a  dropped  handkerchief.  The  Colonel 
was  rather  well  pleased  to  have  something  to  employ  him  in 
this  manner  on  this  particular  morning,  especially  when  he 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  381 

could  combine  the  employment  with  a  book  and  a  lounge  with 
his  feet  upon  the  piaz.* -railing ;  for  the  house  was  a  little 
ticklish  for  indiscriminate  roaming  about,  owing  to  the  ar- 
rangements which  he  knew  to  be  in  progress.  The  dare- 
devil Major  Lally,  of  the  French  revolutionary  time,  is  said 
to  have  laid  his  head  upon  the  block. with  many  doubts  as  to 
the  grace  of  his  position,  and  with  an  apology  to  the  execu- 
tioner if  he  should  have  happened  to  transgress  any  of  the 
rules  of  mortuary  good-breeding, — on  the  ground  that  "  he 
never  had  had  his  head  cut  off  before;"  and  Colonel  Egbert 
Crawford,  never  having  been  married  before,  may  be  excused 
if  he  had  some  sort  of  indefinite  impression  that  all  the  rooms 
in  the  house  were  full  of  awful  preparations,  liable  to  be  run 
against  at  any  moment,  and  altogether  fatal  to  matrimonial 
prospects  if  accidentally  disturbed.  So  the  piazza  and  the 
old  man  furnished  him  with  a  means  of  killing  time  that  was 
"  devilish  dull,"  and  at  the  same  time  with  a  certainty  of  being 
kept  in  a  place  where  he  could  not  possibly  "  run  foul  of  any- 
thing" or  do  any  harm. 

The  old  man  had  scarcely  spoken  for  half  an  hour.  lie 
had  been  lulled  by  the  drowsy  sounds  of  the  summer  noon, 
and  by  the  growing  listlessness  of  his  own  nature,  into  a  few 
moments  of  doze,  in  which  the  Colonel,  closing  his  eyes  to 
the  pages  of  his  book,  seemed  on  the  point  of  joining  him. 
Suddenly  a  rooster,  that  had  strolled  around  from  the  barn- 
yard and  flown  up  to  a  cool  location  on  the  top  of  the  garden 
fence,  and  under  the  shade  of  one  of  the  cherry-trees  (at 
which  elevation  no  doubt  his  numerous  harem  in  the  yard 
regarded  him  with  the  same  reverent  respect  paid  to  the 
Prophet  Brigham,  when  at  a  distance,  by  his  fifty-six  wives 
and  a  fraction) — suddenly  this  rooster,  forgetting  the  proprie- 
ties of  the  place  and  the  hour,  lazily  flapped  his  big  wings  and 
emitted  a  crow  of  such  magnificent  dimensions  as  might  have 
startled  the  whole  neighborhood.  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford 
started  and  opened  his  eyes  :  the  old  man  straightened  up 
his  shaking  head  and  did  likewise.  The  sound  was  like  an 
icy  sword-blade  thrust  into  a  slumbering  and  tepid  fountain — 
startling  all  the  water  spirits  from  repose  and  propriety, — or 
like  Christmas  suddenly  obtruded,  keen   and   pure,  into   the 


882  SHOULLER-STRAPS. 

sluggish  rest  of  midsummer.  Of  what  the  old  man  mused 
as  his  waking  thoughts  recognized  the  sound,  can  never  be 
known — possibly  of  the  wealth  which  he  had  garnered  and 
of  the  broad  lands  over  which  that  sound  went  ringing — all 
his  own,  but  his  own  in  what  miserable  mockery  !  Of  what 
Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  thought  when  the  sound  smote  his 
ears,  is  much  more  certain.  The  cock-crow  and  betrayal ! 
He  had  been  brought  up  in  the  country,  and  many  a  time,  in 
his  younger  and  better  days,  when  intercourse  with  the  world 
had  not  yet  developed  the  evil  germ  in  his  character,  he  had 
read  and  pondered  over  the  mysterious  connection  between 
the  cock,  Shakspeare's  "bird  of  dawning,"  and  the  scenes 
which  preceded  the  Crucifixion.  Remembering  that  the  cock 
had  seemed  to  appear  and  speak  as  the  accuser  of  Peter,  he 
had  insensibly  come  to  connect  those  events  with  the  blacker 
guilt  of  Iscariot,  and  to  look  upon  the  bird  as  the  watcher 
and  detecter.  In  olden  days  this  had  not  troubled  him  : 
perhaps  it  would  not  have  done  so,  only  four  or  five  months 
before,  when  his  hands  were  so  much  nearer  stainless  than 
they  could  be  called  at  that  hour.  Xow,  on  the  verge  of  his 
marriage,  and  when  the  double  tree  of  murder  that  he  had 
planted  (murder  of  character  and  murder  of  person  !)  was 
about  bearing  welcome  and  triumphant  fruit,  the  rooster's  cry, 
so  sharp,  sudden  and  unexpected,  came  to  him  like  the  voice 
of  an  accusing  spirit.  It  may  be  taken  as  a  proof  of  his 
cowardice  when  we  say  that  momentarily  his  cheek  whitened 
and  his  limbs  trembled ;  and  perhaps  every  criminal  if  a 
coward,  because  he  dares,  not  do  right  and  trust  the  event 
with  the  overruling  providences.  But  Egbert  Crawford  was 
no  physical  coward,  as  we  may  have  occasion  to  know  before 
we  have  closed  this  relation.  Yet  he  did  whiten,  and  he  did 
tremble.  Was  there  something  ominous  in  this  sudden  dis- 
turbance of  the  Sabbath  quiet  ?  Did  it  foreshadow  another 
and  a  more  startling  disturbance,  through  which  the  dark, 
silent  current  of  the  river  of  guilt  would  be  splashed  into  by 
the  falling  stones  of  the  temple  of  error  overhanging  it  ? 
Was  there  in  it  an  omen  of  the  sudden  flash  of  a  bright  and 
unendurable  light  through  those  black  caverns,  hitherto  sup- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  383 

posed  to  be  impenetrable,  where  crawl  the  loathsome  and 
slimy  reptiles  of  deceit  and  treachery? 

Pshaw!  why  should  there  be  anything  of  this  involved? 
Cocks  had  crowed  before,  even  at  noon-tide  in  summer,  and 
the  world  had  outlived  the  omen !  Nevertheless  the  sound, 
especially  so  loud  and  grating  a  one,  in  which  the  bray  of 
the  donkey  was  so  evenly  mixed  with  the  hideous  scream  of 
the  peacock  before  rain,  was  an  inopportune  and  impudent 
one  ;  and  the  Colonel  would  have  been  very  likely  to  wring 
chanticleer's  neck  if  it  had  happened  to  come  within  the 
clutch  of  his  fingers.  As  it  was,  he  determined  to  cause  an 
immediate  abandonment  of  that  stronghold,  and  sprung  up  to 
look  for  a  club  or  a  stone  with  which  the  enemy  could  be  dis- 
lodged ;  when  the  rooster  espying  danger  afar  off,  evacuated 
his  Manassas  before  the  enemy  could  reach  him,  and  went 
back  to  his  cackling  harem.  To  them  he  no  doubt  related,  in 
the  appropriate  language  of  the  bipeds  with  feathers,  what  a 
couple  of  sleepy-heads  he  had  seen  upon  the  piazza,  and  how 
he  had  startled  them  both  with  a  voluntary  upon  his  private 
organ.  Meanwhile  the  Colonel  had  dropped  back  into  his 
seat. 

But  old  John  Crawford,  fully  awakened  by  the  sound,  did 
not  seem  likely  to  fall  away  into  slumber  again.  As  Egbert 
resumed  his  place  in  the  chair,  the  old  man  said,  feebly : 

"  Egbert." 

Instantly  the  Colonel,  never  forgetting  his  cue  of  attention 
to  the  invalid,  drew  closer  to  his  side. 

"  Yes,  Uncle,  what  can  I  do  for  cyou  ?" 

"  Where  is  Mary  ?"  asked  the  old  man,  who  had  probably 
before  asked  the  question  half  a  dozen  times  since  she  had  left 
the  house. 

"  Gone  out  for  a  walk,  Uncle,"  said  the  expectant  son-in- 
law  "  I  suppose  she  is  calling  upon  some  of  the  neighbors. 
It  is  her  last  day,  you  know,  Uncle." 

11  Her  last  day  ? — yes,  you  are  going  to  be  married  to-night. 
I  know,"  whispered  the  old  man,  with  the  air  of  a  child  to 
whom  the  intelligence  has  been  communicated  as  a  great 
secret — not  that  of  a  father  who  had  thus  willed  for  the  hap- 
piness of  a  dear  child 


384  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"Dornine  Rodgers  is  to  come  at  six,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"And  then  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  calling  you  by 
a  dearer  name  than  that  of  Uncle." 

"  Yes,  yes — Mary  is  a  good  girl,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Take 
good  care  of  her,  Egbert.  I  am  afraid  I  shan't  live  long,  my- 
self— not  man}-  years — (Poor  old  man  ! — no  efforts  had  been 
sufficient  to  awake  him  to  the  fact  that  his  remaining  time  on 
the  earth  was  probably  to  be  measured  by  days  or  hours  in- 
stead of  years  !)  "  T  am  going  to  have  my  will  made,  Egbert, 
the  moment  you  are  married,  and  I  am  going  to  leave  all  my 
property  to  her — her — her  and  you.  You  will  have  it  all. 
Don't  waste  it,  and  don't  let  it  go  out  of  the  family — not  out 
of  the  family,  Egbert  !  You  are  a  Crawford,  and  I  want  to 
keep  the  property  in  the  family.     Eh,  Egbert  ?" 

"I  will  try  to  do  everything  that  you  wish,  Uncle  I"  said 
the  Colonel;  and  no  doubt  that  he  really  meant  to  obey  that 
portion  of  his  Uncle's  injunctions — to  keep  the  property  in 
the  family. 

"And  look  here,  Egbert,"  said  the  old  man.  who  seemed  to 
speak  with  less  difficulty  than  was  usual  to  him.  though  there 
were  hindrances  in  his  delivery  very  painful  to  the  hearer  and 
which  we  cannot  caricature  age  and  decrepitude  by  attempt- 
ing to  convey.  "Look  here — there  is  one  thing  more.  Xot 
a  dollar  to  that  scoundrel,  Richard  ! — not  a  dollar,  if  he 
starves  !" 

"  Xot  a  dollar,  Uncle  ;  I  promise  you  this,  solemnly."  And 
this  promise,  too,  he  meant  to  keep,  beyond  a  question. 

"And,  Egbert,  keep  Mary  away  from  him.  Don't  let  him 
even  see  her  if  you  can  avoid  it.  They  used  to  be  together  a 
great  deal,  and  I  don't  know — I  don't  know  !*'  What  the  old 
man  did  not  know,  must  remain  among  the  other  mysteries 
not  yet  to  be  revealed.  "Keep  her  away  from  him — don't 
let  her  go  near  him." 

Though  there  were  words  in  this  last  sentence  of  his  Uncle's 
which  did  not  entirely  please  the  Colonel,  yet  there  were  others 
which  did  please  him  thoroughly.  He  made  the  third  promise 
with  the  same  alacrity.  How  easy  the  old  man  was  making 
his  path  !  To  keep  the  property  in  the  family  (that  meant, 
to  keep  it  himself !)  to  give  Richard  no  part  of  it  under  any 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  385 

circumstances  (a  thing*  not  very  likely) — and  to  keep  his 
young  wife  from  the  presence  of  a  man  from  whom  he  had 
only  won  her  by  the  basest  falsehood  (a  thing  he  was  certain 
to  do  at  all  events) — these  were  the  three  injunctions  :  how 
easy  to  fulfil !  The  cup  of  the  young  man's  content  was  at 
that  moment  brimming  over,  and  the  impudent  chanticleer 
who  only  five  minutes  before  had  tortured  him  from  the  gar- 
den palings,  was  quite  forgotten. 

Just  then  there  was  a  light  foot-fall  on  the  piazza  behind 
the  two  speakers.  The  dulled  senses  of  John  Crawford 
were  too  dim  to  recognize  it,  but  the  keener  faculties  of  the 
Colonel  heard  the  beat  of  the  little  foot  at  once  and  knew  it 
to  be  Mary's.  He  was  just  opening  his  mouth  to  say  to  his 
uncle,  "  Here  is  Mary,  now  !"  when  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her  face  ;  and  then  he  remained  gazing  and  said  nothing. 
Mary  had  returned  from  her  walk,  had  thrown  off  her  bon- 
net, and  stepped  out  to  the  piazza  to  look  after  the  comfort 
of  her  father,  and  perhaps  for  some  other  purpose.  She  was 
at  that  moment  just  outside  the  door,  and  from  the  position 
of  the  Colonel,  framed  between  the  pillars  at  the  other  end 
of  the  piazza  and  against  the  dark  green  foliage  of  an  arbor- 
vita}  standing  beyond.  What  was  it  that  the  quick  eye  of 
the  Colonel  saw,  as  he  turned,  that  stopped  the  words  upon 
his  lips  and  made  him  look  in  silence  on  the  young  girl's  face 
and  figure  ?  She  had  been  absent  from  the  house  less  than 
an  hour — what  could  have  occurred  to  her,  within  that  space 
of  time,  to  change  their  relative  positions  ?  And  yet  their 
relative  positions  were  changed — he  felt  the  truth  in  an  in- 
stant. He  had  parted  with  her  less  than  two  hours  before — 
he  the  successful  deceiver  and  she  the  blind  victim.  They 
met  again,  and  she  had  gone  beyond  his  power  and  his  knowl- 
edge. We  have  often  before  had  occasion,  in  the  course  of 
this  narration,  to  speak  of  sudden  changes  in  the  human  face 
and  demeanor,  so  marked  as  to  be  absolutely  startling.  None 
of  those  changes  could  have  been  more  marked  than  that 
shown  by  the  face  and  figure  of  this  young  girl,  as  glanced  at 
by  the  practiced  eye  of  this  man  of  the  world.  She  looked 
taller,  straighter  in  form,  and  no  longer  drooping  and  in- 
elastic.    Her  glorious  auburn  hair  was  partially  shaken  loose 


386  SHOULDKK-STKAPS. 

from  its  confinement,  as  it  had  become  during  the  exciting 
interview  with  Josephine  Harris  ;  and  while  the  negligence 
added  to  the  charm  of  her  appearance,  the  very  fact  that  she 
had  not  displayed  a  woman's  coquetry  in  smoothing  it  rap- 
idly into  order  before  the  glass  when  she  threw  off  her  bon- 
net, betrayed  that  she  was  much  more  awake  and  excited  than 
usual.  Was  this  on  account  of  the  near  approach  of  the  hour 
of  her  marriage  ?  Egbert  Crawford  scarcely  thought  so,  for 
the  e}~e  was  not  that  of  an  expectant  bride.  That  soft,  sweet 
hazel  eye  still  looked  sad  and  troubled,  but  there  seemed  to 
be  a  spark  of  something  fiercer  and  sharper  than  love,  amid 
the  trouble.  Once  more,  what  was  it  ?  Never  before  had 
she  seemed  so  handsome,  but  never  so  unapproachable  ;  and 
if  the  unscrupulous  man  had  really  held  a  true  sentiment  of 
love  for  her,  at  the  bottom  of  all  his  selfish  and  evil  designs 
(and  who  shall  say  that  he  had  not?)  there  came  the  sharpest 
and  deepest  pang  of  his  life  in  the  first  awakening  of  the 
thought  that  she  was  dipping  away  from  him  even  at  the 
moment  when  he  had  apparently  clutched  her. 

The  Colonel,  thoroughly  mystified  and  a  little  alarmed, 
rose  from  his  seat  and  was  advancing  towards  the  young 
girl,  when  she  moved  a  pace  towards  him,  her  eyes  first 
downcast  and  then  even  sternly  raised  to  his  face.  She  did 
not  call  him  by  name,  nor  wait  until  he  had  so  addressed  her, 
but  held  close  to  him,  as  if  to  avoid  any  possible  observation, 
a  small  sealed  note — and  said,  her  voice  trembling  and  husky : 
"  A  private  note  for  you.  Please  read  it  at  once." 
Passing  by  him  without  another  word  and  without  waiting 
for  any  reply,  she  advanced  towards  the  end  of  the  piazza 
where  her  father  was  sitting,  a-nd  knelt  down  beside  him. 
Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  noted  every  feature  of  the  move- 
ment, and  saw  that  his  fancy  of  the  change  in  her  appear- 
ance was  not  fancy  alone.  There  was  something  threatening. 
Mechanically  he  had  taken  the  note  as  she  had  handed  it  to 
him  and  passed  by.  He  glanced  at  the  superscription,  and 
though  his  wonder  was  increased,  his  fears  of  a  rupture  with 
Mary  were  partially  dissipated,  for  the  hand  was  totally  un- 
known to  him.  Ha  !  he  had  it !  The  hand-writing  on  the 
note  was  that  of  a  woman — the  note  had  come  to  the  house 


SHUULDER-S  T  K  A  P  S.  387 

for  him — she  had  seen  it  and  conceived  a  sudden  spasm  of 
jealousy  on  account  of  it !  How  easily  he  could  dissipate 
that  idea  by  showing  her  the  note,  which  he  was  certain 
could  not  be  from  any  illicit  female  correspondent  who  had 
brought  him  within  her  power.  The  note  was  almost  cer- 
tain to  be  from  some  lady  on  professional  business,  or  from 
the  wife,  sister  or  mother  of  some  recruit  who  had  enlisted 
in  the  famous  Two  Hundredth,  asking  for  his  influence  to- 
wards a  discharge  or  a  furlough.  lie  would  show  her  the 
note  at  once,  after  he  had  read  it,  and  with  some  kind  of 
laughing  excuse  for  showing  it  which  would  not  betray  the  fact 
that  he  knew  of  her  having  any  interest  in  it;  and  then  this 
sudden  but  not  dangerous  hurricane  would  be  over. 

He  glanced  round  at  the  pair  on  the  end  of  the  piazza,  a 
smile  of  triumph  on  his  face,  as  he  came  to  this  conclusion. 
Mary  was  kneeling  beside  her  father,  her  back  towards  him- 
self, fondling  the  old  man's  poor  withered  face,  and  paying 
so  little  attention  to  the  man  so  soon  to  be  her  husband,  that 
the  jealousy  hypothesis  might  have  seemed  well  supported. 
What  was  it  that  the  little  girl  had  said  to  Josephine  Harris, 
not  half  an  hour  before  ?— that  "  she  could  never  meet  Eg- 
bert Crawford  after  such  a  revelation  V  Something  of  the 
kind,  certainly.  And  she  had  met  him,  and  unconsciously 
and  without  calculation  gone  through  the  very  brief  inter- 
view in  a  manner  worthy  of  the  most  finished  actress — say 
of  La  Heron,  La  Hoey  or  La  Bateman,  to  name  three  of 
the  most  dissimilar  but  ablest  representatives  of  dramatic 
character  on  the  American  stage.  Oh,  these  little  women, 
who  make  a  boast  of  their  weakness — there  is  very  little  that 
they  cannot  do  when  brought  to  the  test ! 

Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  tore  open  the  note,  walking  to- 
wards the  upper  or  eastern  end  of  the  piazza  as  he  did  so. 
His  back  was  towards  the  two  on  the  other  end,  and  perhaps 
it  was  well  that  he  should  have  been  so  positioned  at  that 
moment.  Naturally,  he  glanced  first  at  the  bottom,  and  saw 
a  name  which  he  immediately  recognized  as  that  of  one  who 
had  been  in  the  way  sometimes  at  the  Crawfords.  He  had 
never  liked  her,  or  held  any  more  intercourse  with  her  than 
was  unavoidable  with  a  very  frequent  guest  at  the  same 


383  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

house  with  himself.  He  had  considered  her  a  little  loud  in 
voice,  rather  rapid,  and  a  fool.  He  had  been  satisfied  that 
she  told  all  that  she  knew,  and  he  would  not  have  been  sur- 
prised to  find  that  sometimes  she  told  considerably  more. 
He  had  considered  her  utterly  incapable  of  keen  research, 
and  the  very  last  person  in  the  world  to  keep  a  secret,  sup- 
posing that  such  a  (dung  could  come  into  her  J 
What  did  he  find  here,  and  from  her  I 

He  read  that  note  three  times  over,  standing  on  the  ex- 
treme east  end  of  the  piazza,  leaning  against  the  corner- 
board  of  the  house,  and  with  his  face  so  averted  from  those 
at  the  other  end  that  even  if  Mary  Crawford  once  or  twice 
threw  a  quick  glance  around,  she  could  see  nothing.  Then 
he  turned,  shoving  the  letter  into  his  vest-pocket  as  he  did 
so,  and  walked  slowly  down  the  piazza  to  the  hall-door,  his 
face  calm,  to  all  distant  appearance,  and  whistling  "  Strida 
la  Yampa." 

If  Mary  Crawford  had  not  before  been  able  to  see  his 
movements,  she  arose  from  her  knees  as  he  came  down  the 
piazza,  and  saw  him  then.  She  saw  him  as  he  passed  in  at 
the  hall-door,  heard  him  whistle  without  an  apparent  tremor 
in  a  note,  and  heard  his  slippered  steps  as  he  slowly  lounged 
up  the  stair  towards  the  room  on  the  second  floor  which  had 
been  for  some  months  kept  as  his.  The  young  girl  was  dis- 
appointed— astonished — astounded  !  She  had  seen  no  agita- 
tion— had  heard  and  seen  the  indications  of  the  opposite  ! 
The  blow  had  not  been  effectual — it  had  either  been  feebly 
struck  or  delivered  from  a  false  aim  !  He  was  not  guilty,  or 
he  was  beyond  fear  and  knew  himself  to  be  beyond  the  reach 
of  public  exposure  !  She  had  hoped  too  soon — the  bond  she 
dreaded  was  not  broken  or  even  deferred  ;  and  God  help  her, 
after  all ! 

Such  were  the  impressions  of  the  young  girl,  as  the  man 
within  a  few  hours  to  be  her  husband  disappeared  into  the 
hall.  "Were  they  well  founded  ?  Ah,  young  eyes  ! — you 
may  be  schooled  to  do  your  part,  very  early,  but  you  cannot 
at  once  be  schooled  to  read  the  eyes  of  others  aright.  Per- 
haps you  never  learn  to  read  aright,  until  you  lose  the 
brightness  of  your  own  truth  and  beauty.     Seventeen  cannot 


SHOULDER-  STRAPS.  389 

well  realize,  to-night  at  Mrs.  Pearl  Dowlas's  hop,  when  Mr. 
Pearl  Dowlas,  the  eminent  merchant,  supposed  to  be  worth  a 
million,  caresses  his  handsome  side-whiskers  with  his  faultless 
hand  and  interchanges  pleasant  nothings  with  the  fashionable 
women  who  all  admire  him  and  all  hate  his  wife, — that  Mr. 
Pearl  Dowlas  is  suffering,  all  the  while,  the  intense  agonies 
of  ruin,  and  that  he  has  the  revolver  already  loaded  and 
capped  with  which  he  intends  to  blow  out  his  brains  after 
the  last  carriage  has  rolled  away.  And  Seventeen  will  be 
quite  as  slow  to  discover,  unless  Seventeen  has  lived  too 
fast  for  her  own  self-respect  and  eventual  happiness,  that 
Lady  Flora,  patting  her  white-gloved  hands  to-night  at  the 
Opera,  with  the  blonde  Emperor  by  her  side,  apparently  the 
happiest  and  the  most  truly  envied  woman  in  all  that  bril- 
liant house,  has  such  pangs  of  rage  and  jealousy  tugging  at 
her  heart-strings,  when  she  looks  over  at  a  much  plainer  wo- 
man in  the  opposite  row  of  boxes,  that  could  the  terror  of 
the  law  be  removed,  she  would  sacrifice  self-respect,  dignity, 
hope,  everything,  and  bury  a  knife  in  the  heart  of  that  plainer 
woman  as  they  brush  by  each  other  in  the  lobby.  Seventeen 
will  be  slow  to  discover  these  things.  Twenty-five  may 
have  a  nearer  appreciation  of  them,  though  yet  dim  as  com- 
pared with  the  reality  :  alas  ! — it  needs  Forty-five  or  Fifty, 
or  a  younger  age  made  so  old  by  sad  experience — Forty-five 
or  Fifty,  with  the  bloom  gone,  the  gray  hair  here  and  the  wrin- 
kles coining,  to  look  beneath  the  surface  and  see  the  agony 
writhing  at  the  bottom.  Thank  God  that  some  agonies  never 
can  be  discovered  at  all,  until  they  break  forth  in  uncontrol- 
lable madness :  the  world  might  be  sadder  if  we  could  look 
in  through  transparent  flesh  into  our  neighbors'  hearts,  as  we 
do  through  glass  windows  into  their  houses  ! 

"  Strida  la  Vampa"  had  been  bravely  whistled.  Not  braver 
the  conduct  of  the  poor  cartman  at  the  hospital  a  few  months 
ago,  when  he  looked  calmly  on  without  a  groan  or  a  wince, 
while  the  surgeon  sawed  off  the  ends  of  the  bone  of  his  frac- 
tured arm,  drilled  holes  through  them  and  screwed  them  to- 
gether with  a  fastening  of  gold  wire  !  That  was  physical 
bravery,  or  perhaps  stolid  exemption  from  pain  :  this  was 
that  moral  bravery,  in  a  bad  cause,  but  none  the  less  real, 


390  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

which  could  see  wholesale  and  undeniable  ruin  fall  without 
betraying  one  sign  of  agony  to  the  observer  most  interested. 
Though  he  had  read  that  letter  three  times  to  fix  the  words  in 
his  mind,  he  had  understood  it  at  the  first  reading.  It  told 
him  all  that  needed  to  be  known.  Mary's  changed  look  and  her 
averted  face  were  now  accounted  for — accounted  for  at  once 
and  forever.  Xo  word  of  explanation  was  necessary  and  none 
would  be  given  or  demanded.  Some  men  might  have  hesi- 
tated, and  questioned  whether  the  blow  could  not  be  softened 
or  averted.  This  was  not  Egbert  Crawford.  He  had  played, 
boldly,  wickedly  and  recklessly,  though  apparently  with  all 
care.  At  the  very  moment  when  he  seemed  to  have  won  all, 
he  had  lost  all.  At  the  bar  he  had  always  been  known  as 
contesting  a  case  unscrupulously  and  to  the  bitter  end,  but  as 
giving  up  gracefully  and  bearing  a  defeat  without  complaint, 
when  defeated.  A  suspicion  once  aroused,  and  backed  as  was 
this  suspicion,  the  wearer  of  the  eyes  he  had  just  seen  could 
never  again  be  deceived.  Had  he  been  less  of  a  resolute  man 
he  might  have  dared  the  other  threats  of  the  young  girl,  per- 
haps impotent.  But  the  one  great  stake  lost,  in  the  hand  and 
fortune  of  Mary  Crawford,  there  was  nothing  left  to  play  for, 
worth  even  hazarding  exposure. 

We  will  not  say  that  in  his  own  chamber,  and  while  chang- 
ing his  slippers  for  boots  and  his  linen-wrapper  to  a  coat  more 
fit  for  the  street,  he  did  not  more  than  once  gnash  his  teeth, 
utter  an  oath  below  his  breath,  and  curse  the  whole  race  of 
meddling  women.  But  if  he  did  so,  he  said  nothing  aloud; 
and  if  his  dark  brows  were  darker  than  usual,  no  human  eye 
saw  them.  He  had  writing  materials  upon  the  table  in  that 
room — that  room,  the  best  in  the  house,  and  into  which,  on 
the  night  to  follow,  he  had  expected  to  be  accompanied  by 
his  bride.  He  sat  down  at  the  table  but  a  moment,  but  in 
that  moment  he  dashed  off,  with  a  hand  wonderfully  steady 
under  the  circumstances,  the  following  note  : 

Sc.vday,  1  P.M. 

Miss  Harris: — 

You  have  meddled  successfully,  and  whether  you  are  right  or 
wrong  in  what  you  allege,  I  shall  not  be  here  to  contest  the  ques- 
tion.    If  your  husband,  if  you  ever  get  one,  keeps  half  as  close  a 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  391 

watch  over  you,  he  will  probably  see  quite  enough  to  satisfy  him. 
Perhaps  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  communicate  this  to  Miss  Mary 
Crawford,  and  thus  finish  the  obligations  under  which  I  rest. 

Yours,  humbly, 

Egbert  Crawford. 

In  a  moment  more  this  note  was  sealed  and  directed  to 
"  Miss  Josephine  Harris — Care  of  Miss  Crawford"  and  left 
lying  on  the  table,  with  the  superscription  upward.  Then 
Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  put  on  his  hat,  walked  deliberately 
down-stairs  and  out  at  the  front  of  the  house.  No  one  seemed 
to  observe  him — not  even  a  domestic,  and  probably  nothing 
could  have  pleased  him  better  at  that  moment.  Walking 
town  the  lane  to  the  road,  he  turned  up  the  road  to  the  left, 
went  up  to  a  little  country  tavern  where  he  had  sometimes 
hired  a  riding-horse  on  previous  visits,  and  hired  a  horse  and 
buggy,  with  a  driver,  to  go  at  once  to  Utica,  Ten  minutes 
completed  the  negotiation,  and  ten  more  harnessed  up  the 
horse  to  the  vehicle ;  so  that  before  the  call  to  dinner  was 
made  at  the  Crawford  mansion,  before  old  John  Crawford  was 
assisted  in  from  the  portico,  or  Mary  thought  ^f  the  arbiter 
of  her  destiny  as  elsewhere  than  in  his  own  room, — he  was 
bowling  down  the  dusty  road  towards  Utica.  When  the 
down-train  from  Suspension  Bridge  left  Utica  for  Albany  that 
afternoon,  the  detected  and  beaten  gambler  in  reputations, 
lives  and  matrimonial  ventures,  was  a  passenger. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

Affairs  in  the  CrawforiT  Family  in   New  York — The 
Two  Brothers — Marion  Hobart  the  Enigma — Niagara 

BY    WAY    OF    THE    CENTRAL    PaRIy. 

It  has  been  already  said  that  John  Crawford,  wounded, 
and  with  the  poor  little  Virginian  orphan-girl  in  his  company, 
reached  New  York  on  the  evening  of  the  Fourth  of  Julv — 


392  SHOULDE  R-ST  R  APS. 

the  same  evening,  it  will  be  remembered,  on  which  Tom 
Leslie  and  Josephine  Harris  left  the  city,  the  one  for  Niagara 
and  the  other  for  her  matrimonial  operations  at  West  Falls. 
ft  is  just  possible  that  their  not  arriving  earlier  was  a  lucky 
event,  as  Joe  Harris,  had  she  once  set  eyes  on  the  deli- 
cate and  singular-looking  Virginian  girl,  would  have  been 
almost  certainly  attracted  towards  her,  and  in  that  event  her 
pet  hobby  for  the  time  might  have  been  neglected — her 
departure  for  the  Xorth  might  have  been  delayed  for  a  day 
or  two — and  Mary  Crawford  might  have  been  left  to  meet 
her  fate  in  helplessness  and  ignorance. 

And  yet  all  this  is  an  array  of  "  mights"  that  have  no  real 
propriety,  for  events  occur  but  once  in  the  world,  and  they 
only  occur  in  one  mode.  Human  will  is  free,  and  human 
responsibility  is  never  to  be  ignored ;  and  still  no  human 
hand  changes  in  any  degree  the  inevitable.  "  Oh,  if  I  had  !" 
and  "  Oh,  if  I  had  not  I"  are  very  common  exclamations,  and 
those  who  have  committed  terrible  errors  or  met  with  severe 
misfortunes  will  continue  to  make  them  until  the  whole 
course  of  human  existence  is  run;  and  vet  they  are  none  the 
less  follies.  The  events  of  yesterday  were  part  of  that  general 
plan  on  which  the  world  was  first  formed  and  on  which  it 
ma}r  have  been  conducted  through  all  the  hundreds  of  centu- 
ries which  puzzle  Agassiz  and  frighten  the  theologists.  The 
downfall  of  an  empire  and  the  picking  up  of  a  basket  of  chips 
by  a  ragged  child  in  a  ship-yard,  may  each  have  equally 
formed  part  of  it,  and  each  been  equally  impossible  to  avert. 
Human  will  seemed  to  move  each  event,  and  human  respon- 
sibility certainly  attached  to  each  ;  but  the  event  itself,  un- 
known until  accomplished,  moved  in  its  appointed  course  and 
could  no  more  be  jarred  from  it  than  one  of  the  planets  from 
its  orbit. 

But  all  this  by  the  way.  Joe  Harris  had  her  own  odd 
work  to  do,  hundreds  of  miles  away,  and  there  was  no  hin- 
drance in  the  way  of  her  accomplishing  it,  from  any  new  ties 
suddenly  added  to  bind  her  to  the  city. 

Of  course  that  strange  and  unexpected  arrival  from  the 
seat  of  war  (for  John  Crawford  had  not  even  taken  the  pre- 
caution to  telegraph  from  Fortress  Monroe  or  Washington) 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  393 

created  a  sensation  in  the  Crawford  household.  A  mixed 
sensation — for  while  both  the  brothers  were  heartily  glad  to 
meet,  each  had  a  cause  for  sorrow  on  meeting  the  other. 
Richard  was  naturally  sorry  to  see  John,  who  had  passed 
through  so  many  fights  without  harm,  wounded  at  last  and 
disabled  for  an  indefinite  period ;  and  John  was  correspond- 
ingly sorry  to  Bee  Kicliard,  whom  he  had  left  in  such  high 
health  and  spirits,  a  broken-down  and  house-ridden  invalid. 
Not  long  before  he  had  another  cause  for  anxiety ;  for  in  the 
first  half  hour  of  private  conference  which  ensued,  on  the  very 
evening  of  their  arrival,  in  response  to  a  question  from  John, 
as  to  the  health  of  the  family  at  West  Falls  and  the  progress 
of  his  expected  marriage  with  Mary,  Richard  revealed  the 
unaccountable  state  of  coldness  which  had  sprung  up,  Mary's 
neglect  to  answer  his  late  letters,  and  the  fact  that  Egbert 
remained  all  the  visiting-link  between  the  city  and  country 
branches  of  the  family. 

"  Egbert,  eh  ?"  asked  John,  whose  service  at  looking  out 
for  skulking  enemies  when  on  picket-duty,  might  have  made 
him  more  watchful  and  suspicious  than  he  would  have  been 
under  other  circumstances.  M  Egbert,  eh  ?  Well,  all  I  can 
say  is  that  I  don't  like  the  link  !" 

Richard  Crawford  started,  as  he  lay  reclining  upon  the 
sofa.  He  was  decidedly  better  than  he  had  been  a  week  be- 
fore, and  kept  his  little  room  less  closely,  though  he  was 
fearfully  weak  and  the  racking  pain  had  not  entirely  left  his 
system.     "  You  never  liked  Egbert,"  he  said. 

"  No,w  said  John,  "  I  never  liked  him,  a  bit  more  than 
Dean  Swift  liked  Doctor  Fell,  though  perhaps  I  could  not 
tell  why,  any  better  than  the  Dean." 

u  Xo,  I  suppose  not,"  said  Richard,  musingly.  And  here 
the  conversation  dropped,  on  that  point.  Whatever  may  have 
been  Richard  Crawford's  suspicions  of  his  cousin,  forced  on 
him  by  circumstances  and  by  the  young  girl  who  had  so 
strangely  volunteered  to  disenchant  him — he  had  no  ifetention 
of  communicating  them  even  to  his  brother. 

If  there  was  a  mixed  feeling  in  the  meeting  of  the  brothers, 
there  was  one  quite  as  complicated  in  that  of  Isabel  Craw- 
ford and  Marion  Hobart — two  total  strangers  so  unexpectedly 


394  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

flung  together.  Bell  Crawford  was  better  fitted  to  receive 
and  care  for  the  orphan  girl,  than  she  would  have  been  a 
month  before,  when  the  mysterious  turning-point  of  her  ex- 
istence had  not  been  reached  ;•  and  there  had  been  no  time 
since  she  had  become  the  mistress  of  her  brother's  mansion, 
when  she  would  not  have  used  every  exertion  to  make  one 
comfortable  and  happy  who  had  been  so  strangely  recom- 
mended to  her  sympathy.  What  she  would  before  have 
lacked,  was  discipline  and  thoughtfulness.  These  she  had 
attained  to  some  degree,  in  a  manner  which  she  could  not 
much  more  comprehend  than  those  who  surrounded  her.  But 
it  was  impossible  that  she  could  be  able  at  once  to  supply  the 
double  want  of  sister  and  mother  to  one  who  had  been  so 
differently  nurtured  and  educated  as  Marion  Hobart ;  and  the 
very  desire  to  be  even  kinder  than  she  would  have  cared  to 
be  to  one  who  had  more  claims  upon  her,  necessarily  placed 
her  in  embarrassment  which  was  very  likely  to  produce  the 
opposite  effect.  The  young  Virginian  girl  could  not  do  other- 
wise than  receive  those  attentions  with  gratitude,  and  yet  her 
very  desire  not  to  be  obtrusive  and  not  to  seem  to  demand 
more  attention  than  was  necessary,  placed  her  in  an  equally 
anomalous  position.  The  two  girls  consequently  became 
much  less  intimately  acquainted  within  the  first  few  days,  than 
they  might  have  done  if  thrown  together  under  different 
auspices. 

Marion  Hobart  was,  as  her  conversation  and  conduct  on 
the  night  of  her  grandfather's  death  so  plainly  indicated,  a 
most  singular  person,  and  one  who  might  have  been  studied 
for  years  without  being  fully  understood.  She  talked  but 
little,  and  yet  her  silence  seemed  to  be  more  the  result  of 
having  nothing  to  say  and  no  sympathy  with  the  ordinary 
topics  of  conversation,  than  from  dislike  or  inability  to  con- 
verse. When  she  did  speak,  the  same  childlike  curtness  and 
immobility  were  observable,  that  had  been  shown  by  the 
couch W* her  dying  relative.  She  seemed  to  be  repeating  set 
words,  that  did  not  affect  her  heart  or  make  any  change  in 
the  expression  of  her  face ;  even  though  she  may  have  been 
deeply  moved  in  reality.  She  received  kindnesses  with  thank- 
fulness, and  vet  that  thankfulness  was  ffenerallv  too  set  and 


n 


SHOULDER-ST  R  A  P  S.  395 

formal  in  its  phrase  to  ere**  the  impression  of  gushing  warm 
from  the  heart,  and  to  give  that  exquisite  pleasure  that  a 
simple  "Thank  you  I"  will  often  convey  when  it  seems  to 
leap  out  unbidden. 

Of  course  in  the  double  disaster  of  the  fire  and  the  death 
the  poor  girl  found   herself  almost  entirely  unprovided  with 
clothes.     Isabel,  with  thoughtful  care,  the  next  day  after  her 
arrival   spoke  of  making  arrangements  for  procuring  the  ser- 
vices of  a  dressmaker  at  once. 

"  Yes  thank  you,  I  have  no  clothes.  I  shall  want  some  » 
answered  the  young  girl. 

"Kxcuse  my  touching  upon  your  grief,"  said  Bell,  "  but  I 
suppose  that  you  will  wish  black  ?  You  will  wear  mourn- 
ing  r" 

"No,  if  you  please,"  was  tbe  reply.  "My  family  never 
wear  mourning.  My  grandmother  never  did.  I  have  been 
told  so  1  do  not  remember  my  grandmother.  I  do  not 
know  why  we  never  wear  mourning.  But  if  you  please  I 
wish  to  do  as  grandmother  did." 

Here  was  the  same  peculiarity  again,  that  had  been  shown 
at  he  bedside  of  the  dying  grandfather_the  grandmother 
spoken  of  but  no  mention  of  a  mother.  Bell  Crawford  no- 
ticed the  fact,  as  her  brother  had  not  done  ;  but  she  could  no 
more  have  asked  that  strange  girl  for  an  explanation,  and 
risked  the  possible  opening  of  some  family  wound,  than  she 
could  have  gone  to  the  stake. 

Nothing  more  was  said  upon  the  subject  of  the  mourning  j 
and  Bel  Crawford  made  the  necessary  arrangements  for  pro- 
ivci'nflis  "'^  SUggC'Stcd  uo  remembrance  of  her 

John  Crawford  had  not  forgotten  the  words  of  the  old  man 
as  to  money  in  his  granddaughter's  name,  lying  in  one  of 
he  en y  banks.  He  suggested  the  matter  to  her?  aware  that 
she  would  be  anxious  to  rid  herself  from  anyfcoling  of  ab- 
solute dependence,_and  she  answered  him  at  on<£  She 
knew  the  name  of  the  bank,  and  near.y  the  amount  that 
should  bc  standing  to  her  credit,  which  was,  as  her  grand- 
father  had  said,  quite  enough  to  make  her  comfortable' for  an 
ordinary  life,  ranging  closely  upon  fifty  thousand  dollars      II, 


396  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

procured  her  some  checks,  and  she  filled  up  one  in  a  hand  of 
crow-quill  lightness,  which  looked  indescribably  like  herself, 
but  with  a  readiness  which  showed  that  she  must  have  been 
before  familiar  with  banking  business.      He  presented  the 

check,  and  it  was  honored  without  enquiry,  this  fact  proving 
that  her  signature  was  known  ;  and  thus  all  anxiety  on  the 
pecuniary  question  was  set  at  rest. 

The  young  girl  had  said,  in  that  dreadful  hour  by  the  death- 
couch,  when  speaking  of  her  grandfather's  fervent  Union 
sentiments,  "I  do  not  know  anything  about  politics,  myself!" 
The  truth  that  she  had  no  knowledge  or  no  feeling  on  the 
subject  of  the  struggle  between  the  two  sections,  was  made 
manifest  before  she  had  been  twenty-four  hours  an  inmate  of 
Richard  Crawford's  house.  John  continued  to  fight,  mentally, 
though  wounded  and  absent  from  the  army.  Richard  was 
an  ardent  loyalist,  as  we  have  seen.  The  brothers  naturally 
ran  into  warm  denunciations  of  rebellion,  and  confident  pro- 
phecies of  the  success  of  the  Union  cause,  in  spite  of  all 
past  disasters.  Bell  and  Marion  were  both  present  when  they 
launched  into  the  first  of  these  ;  but  before  the  conversation 
had  lasted  many  minutes,  the  young  Yirginian  girl  rose  and 
left  the  room  with  a  word  of  apology.  Both  the  brothers 
noticed  the  act  and  her  manner.  It  did  not  indicate  anger 
or  dissatisfaction — simply  a  total  want  of  interest. 

The  next  morning  something  still  more  conclusive  on  this 
subject  occurred.  Richard  Crawford  had  been  much  in  the 
habit,  during  his  illness,  of  being  read  to  by  his  sister,  Joe 
Harris,  or  any  other  friend  who  would  take  the  trouble  to 
amuse  him  in  that  manner.  As  he  began  to  recover,  he  did 
not  lose  the  relish  for  that  description  of  lazy  luxury.  On  the 
morning  in  question,  John  had  gone  out,  Bell  was  busy,  and 
Marion  and  her  host  happened  to  be  alone  in  the  room,  when 
the  morning  papers  were  brought  in. 

"Miss  Hobart,  will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  read  the  news  to 
me  ?"  suggested  the  invalid. 

"  If  you  wish,  Mr.  Crawford,"  she  said  at  once.  "  I  do  not 
read  very  well  aloud.  But  I  will  do  my  best."  She  picked 
up  one  of  the  papers  and  commenced  reading.  European 
news — news  from  Central  and  South  America — railroad  ac- 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  397 

cidenta — dramatic  notices — everything  except  the  news  from 
Washington  and  the  war,  which  happened  to  be  all  that  he 
cared  to  hear  at  all  !  He  looked  at  her  in  some  surprise,  but 
watched  her  closely  and  saw  thai  she  did  not  do  this  by  chance, 
but  that  she  carefully  avoided  the  columns  containing  the 
news  from  the  army.  Directly  Bell  entered  the  room,  and 
she  began,  at  his  request,  to  read  the  war  news.  Then  Marion 
left  the  room,  with  an  apology,  as  she  had  done  the  day 
before. 

When  John  returned,  his  brother  related  the  incident  to 
hiiu.  In  return  John  informed  him  of  her  words  on  the  first 
night  of  their  meeting,  and  the  two  agreed  that  she  had  an 
Unaccountable  antipathy  to  everything  connected  with  the 
war,  and  that  nothing  more  should  be  said  to  her  on  the 
subject. 

"What  if  she  should  be  a  little  secesh?"  asked  Richard, 
very  much  at  random. 

"  She  V  said  John.  "  The  granddaughter  of  that  man  ? 
Not  a  bit  of  it !  She  is  a  little  of  an  oddity,  and  a  very  pretty 
little  oddity — don't  you  think  so,  Richard  ?"  and  so  the  con- 
versation dropped. 

The  young  girl  had  evidently  had  a  fine  musical  education. 
She  played  very  sweetly,  though  only  upon  request.  Once  she 
sang  an  English  ballad,  upon  still  more  urgent  request,  but 
she  seemed  to  do  so  with  such  unwillingness  that  she  was  not 
d  again.  Her  voice,  as  shown  on  that  occasion,  was 
mournfully  sweet  and  pure,  and  highly  cultivated.  She  spoke 
French  with  singular  facility  and  unusual  correctness  for  an 
American.  Bell  and  the  brothers  hoped  that  when  the  nov- 
elty of  her  position  had  worn  away,  she  would  more  fully 
enter  into  their  tastes  and  habits,  and  become  less  impracti- 
cable, if  not  happier. 

A  very  neat  little  chamber  on  the  second  floor,  which  ad- 
joined Bell's  and  had  been  standing  empty  except  when 
occupied  by  chance  visitors,  was  arranged  for  the  young  girl 
as  soon  as  she  entered  the  household,  and  she  took  possession 
of  it  with  apparent  satisfaction.  And  what  a  little  "box" 
she  made  of  it  at  once.  The  very  next  day  she  went  into  the 
street,  without  any  consultation  with  Bell,  and  made  purchases 


39S  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

of  not  less  than  a  hundred  dollars  worth  of  pictures  and 
articles  of  vertv,  to  ornament  it.  It  was  not  difficult  to 
at  once,  that  though  she  might  be  indolently  content  without 
the  surroundings  of  luxury,  yet  it  was  only  with  them,  and 
with  them  in  somewhat  aristocratic  profusion,  that  she  could 
he  spiritedly  happy.  When  she  had  added  her  purchases  li- 
the comforts  and  even  luxuries  already  in  her  chamber,  she 
ran  into  BelPs  room  with  something  approaching  to  excite- 
ment upon  her  face,  and  called  her  in  to  see  the  arrangement. 
Bell  literally  clapped  her  hands  in  delight,  the  young  Vir- 
ginian girl  had  shown  such  exquisite  taste  and  made  the 
little  room  look  so  much  like  a  cross  between  the  sleeping 
chamber  of  a  very  young  princess,  a  museum,  and  an  art 
gallery.  She  had  imagination  enough  to  fancy  how  the  scene 
would  appear,  with  the  room  so  ornamented,  the  light  turned 
low  and  filtering  through  the  white  porcelain  shade  of  the 
burner,  and  that  singularly  beautiful  little  head  lying  in  sleep 
on  the  white  pillow,  the  calm,  childlike  features  in  repose,  and 
the  blonde  hair  a  little  dishevelled  and  insensibly  fading  away 
into  the  white  upon  which  it  rested. 

There  were  some  articles  of  vertu,  a  very  small  statue  of 
Washington  among  them,  lying  on  the  bureau  and  not  yet 
arranged.  Bell  Crawford  went  up  to  the  bureau  and  examined 
them,  while  Marion  was  arranging  a  different  loop  to  the  cur- 
tains of  her  bed,  which  would  enable  her  to  look  out,  before 
she  rose,  on  a  handsome  little  steel  engraving  of  the  white- 
plumed  Henry  the  Fourth  at  the  battle  of  Ivry,  which  she 
had  just  placed  in  position  on  the  wall.  Among  the  articles 
on  the  bureau  lay  a  locket,  in  gold  with  a  band  of  blue  enamel 
crossing  it  diagonally.  It  was  unclasped,  and  almost  without 
a  thought  whether  she  was  doing  right  or  wrong,  Bell  (as 
woman,  and  even  man,  will  often  do  in  such  cases)  took  it 
up  in  her  hand,  threw  open  the  case  and  looked  at  the  face 
of  the  miniature  within.  This  was  simply  the  head  from  an 
admirable  carte  de  visite,  artistic  enough  to  have  been  made 
by  Gurney  or  Fredericks,  and  showing  that  it  must  have  been 
taken  within  a  very  few  months, — cut  out  in  a  circle  and 
placed  within  the  glass.  The  face  was  that  of  a  man  who 
might  have  been  thirty  years  of  age,  dark  complexioned  but 


SHOULDER-STltAJ'S.  399 

strongly  handsome,  indicating  size  and  sinew  in  figure,  with 
the  cheek-hones  a  little  high,  fiery  dark  eyes  under  heavy 
brows;  heavy  black  Lair  worn  long  and  curling,  and  a  very 
heavy  and  yet  graceful  dark  moustache.  In  the  picture  he  had 
a  broad  white  collar  turned  down  under  the  velvet  of  his  dark 
coat,  giving  him  a  peculiar  look  which  may  have  been  Southern 
or  South-western  and  was  certainly  not  of  the  North  and  the 
"  great  citie."  Bell  Crawford  had  only  a  moment  to  notice 
the  picture,  and  though  she  supposed  it  to  be  the  portrait  of 
some  near  relative  of  the  young  girl,  she  could  not  help  think- 
ing how  completely  and  exactly  her  opposite  it  was  in  every 
particular— -black  hair  for  blonde,  strength  for  fragility,  and 
the  fire  of  those  dark  eyes  for  the  calm,  childlike  innocence 
of  Marion  Hobart's. 

Only  a  moment  sufficed  to  make  these  observations  :  the 
next  instant  the  young  girl  saw  the  picture  in  her  hand  and 
sprung  down  from  the  chair  upon  which  she  had  been  standing, 
with  an  agitation  entirely  different  from  any  thing  which  she  had 
before  exhibited.  Her  pale  face  was  for  the  instant  deeply 
flushed — Bell  Crawford  was  sure  of  it — and  there  was  some- 
thing more  passionate  than  usual  in  the  sad  eyes.  Her  lips 
trembled,  and  her  hostess  grew  both  pained  and  alarmed  in 
the  belief  that  she  was  about  to  utter  harsh  and  angry  words. 
But  if  the  eyes  of  Bell  had  not  been  mistaken,  and  there  had 
really  been  such  an  agitation  raging  in  the  breast  of  the  young 
girl,  certainly  a  most  remarkable  change  had  come  over  her 
before  she  had  taken  the  two  or  three  steps  forward  and 
reached  the  bureau  where  Miss  Crawford  was  standing.  She 
was  herself  again,  completely;  and  her  words,  when  they 
came,  were  such  as  might  have  been  expected  of  her  from 
pivvious  observation. 

"Please  do  not  look  at  that !"  she  said,  reaching  out  her 
hand  to  take  it.  Then  she  instantly  added  :  "But  you  have 
seen  it,  It  was  my  own  fault.  I  should  not  have  left  it 
lying  open  in  that  manner.  I  did  not  wish  you  to  see  it,  or 
any  one." 

11 1  am  really  sorry,"  said  Bell.  "  I  took  it  up  without 
i hinking,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  not  think  that  I  wished  to 
pry  into  any  secret  of  yours."     She  was  a  little  ashamed  at 


400  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

her  Blight  breach  of  etiquette,  and  a  good  deal  pained  ;  and 
her  strange  guest  seemed  to  be  at  once  aware  of  both  feel- 
ings. Before  Bell  knew  what  she  was  about  to  do,  Marion 
had  thrust  the  locket  into  her  bosom,  then  laid  (not  throw?}) 
her  arms  around  her  neck,  and  kissed  her  on  the  cheek. 

"Please  do  not  be  hurt  or  angry  with  me,"  she  said,  her 
voice  very  low  and  her  whole  manner  childlike.  "  It  was 
not  wrong  for  you  to  look  at  the  picture.  It  was  wrong  in 
me  to  pain  you.  It  is  the  picture  of  a  very  dear  friend — of 
my  family."  There  was  the  least  instant  of  hesitation  before 
adding  the  last  three  words.  "If  you  do  not  wish  v<rv 
much,  I  will  not  tell  you  his  name,  for — for  reasons  that  you 
would  not  understand."  Another  slight  instant  of  hesitation 
in  the  middle  of  the  sentence. 

"  Oh,  by  no  means — do  not  tell  me  the  name.  You  would 
pain  me  if  you  did  so,"  answered  Bell.  "  Xow  let  us  forget 
all  about  it,  and  only  think  of  the  wilderness  of  pretty  things 
that  you  have  been  buying,  to  make  this  room  the  very  neat- 
est in  the  house." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  said  Marion.  "  I  am  very  glad  if 
you  like  them.  I  am  very  glad  when  I  please  any  one,  and 
very  unhappy  when  I  do  not,  I  do  not  quite  know  how  to 
arrange  them  all.  Will  you  help  me  ?"  and  in  a  moment 
more  the  episode  of  the  picture  seemed  to  be  quite  forgotten 
in  the  bestowal  of  the  remainder  of  Marion's  "  art-treasures." 

Saturday  afternoon  saw  a  marked  event  in  the  history  of 
the  Crawford  family,  in  the  crossing  by  Richard  of  the 
threshold  of  the  outer  door,  for  the  first  time  in  so  many 
weeks.  He  was  weak,  faint  and  feeble,  but  the  racking  pains 
of  his  disease  seemed  hourly  to  leave  him  more  completely. 
He  had  no  more  thought  of  leaving  the  house,  however,  than 
of  flying,  until  the  tempter  appeared  in  the  shape  of  his 
brother.  John  had  been  reading  over  the  morning  paper,  a 
little  late ;  and  after  the  news  had  been  thoroughly  exhausted, 
he  had  happened  upon  the  programme  of  the  music  at  the 
Central  Park, 

"  Hallo  !"  he  said.  "  Here,  Dick  !  Dodworth's  Band  at 
the  Central  Park  this  afternoon.  I  have  heard  plenty  of 
what  they  called  music,  all  the  while  that  I  have  been  gone ; 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  401 

but  not  Dodworth.  Let's  go  up  and  hoar  it!  Besides,  I 
want  to  see  how  much  more  thoy  have  wasted  on  the  Park." 

"I!''  answered  Richard  Crawford,  astounded.  "You  arc 
not  very  kind,  brother  John,  to  speak  of  my  going  out,  when 
you  know  that  I  have  not  left  the  house  for  months." 

"No,"  said  John,  "indeed  I  did  not  think  of  that!  But 
now  that  I  do  think  of  it,  all  the  more  reason  why  you  should 
go." 

"  Why,  I  could  not  sit  up  to  ride  a  block  !"  said  Richard. 

"  Don't  believe  a  word  of  it !"  said  John,  gayly.  "  You 
never  know  what  you  can  do,  until  you  try.  You  are  better 
— you  say  that  you  are  better — and  the  more  you  stay  within 
the  house,  the  more  you  may.  In  my  opinion,  to  get  well 
rapidly,  you  should  be  out  of  the  house  more  than  half  the 
time,  regaining  the  strength  you  have  lost." 

Just  then  there  was  a  ring  at  the  bell,  and  Dr.  Thompson, 
the  old  family  physician  who  had  attended  both  the  brothers 
since  boyhood,  came  in  to  look  at  Richard  and  after  the 
dressing  of  John's  wounded  arm.  John  had  made  a  per- 
sonal call  upon  him  that  morning,  and  the  genial,  gray-haired, 
but  young-hearted  old  doctor  had  been  very  glad  to  see  him 
returned,  with  no  worse  wound  than  that  in  his  arm. 

"  See  here,  Doctor,"  said  John,  the  moment  he  entered, 
"  I  have  been  giving  Richard  good  advice,  and  I  wish  you  to 
bear  me  out  in  it." 

"  Advising  me  to  kill  myself,  he  means  !"  said  Richard. 

"  Humph  !  let's  hear  what  it  is  all  about,  and  see  how 
much  you  are  both  wrong  !"  answered  the  doctor,  who  hact 
made  that  advance  in  philosophy  which  recognizes  that  neither 
side  in  an  argument  is  at  all  likely  to  represent  the  whole 
truth. 

"  I  have  been  telling  him  that  he  should  go  out,  and  ban- 
tering him  to  ride  with  me  to  the  Central  Park,"  said  John. 

"And  I  have  been  telling  him  that  I  had  not  strength 
enough  to  ride  a  single  block,  much  less  to  the  Central  Park," 
said  Richard. 

"Let  me  see,"  said  the  doctor,  taking  the  invalid's  hand 
in  his,  examining  his  pulse,  and  subjecting  him  to  a  general 
scrutiny.     "  The  proposal  is  a  bold  one,  but  I  fancy  that  it  is 


402  SHOULDER-8TRAF  B. 

sensible,  after  all  Yes,  when  von  can  go  out,  you  ean  go 
out  to  advantage,  and  I  believe  that  time  ha?  come.  You 
had  probably  better  accept  your  brother's  proposal7' 

The  result  of  all  which  was,  that  the  carriage  was  ordered 
between  three  and  four  o'clock,  and  that  in  spite  of  the 
insufferable  heat  of  the  day  the  two  invalids  (so  very  differ- 
ently disabled)  were  driven  to  the  Central  Park,  were  driven 
around  it,  heard  Dodworth's  Band  perform  half  a  done* 
operatic  selections  as  only  that  cornet-band  can  perforrii 
them,  saw  the  loungers  on  the  grass,  the  promenaders  on  the 
walks,  the  boats  on  the  pond  which  is  called  a  lake,  and  all 
the  picturesque  features  of  that  Saturday-afternoon  gathering 
which  within  the  past  two  years  has  become  a  pleasant 
feature  of  summer  in  the  metropolis. 

Richard  Crawford  did  not  experience  the  fatigue  he  had 
expected.  On  the  contrary  he  felt  new  life  and  vigor  flowing 
in  with  every  breath  of  the  yet  early  summer ;  and  when 
they  drove  back  to  the  house  an  hour  before  sunset,  he  had 
the  sensations  of  a  school-boy  whose  play-hour  is  over  and 
who  is  just  going  back  to  school  and  his  books.  He  was  not 
only  better,  but  he  was  nearly  well.  He  felt  and  realized  the 
fact  for  the  first  time.  The  wide,  glorious,  open  world,  with 
its  flowers,  its  waters,  its  sunshine,  and  its  smiling  human 
faces  worth  them  all,  had  once  more  called  the  man  who  had 
so  lately  believed  himself  shut  away  from  life  and  enjoyment 
forever  ;  and  he  was  answering  the  call. 

Xot  that  Richard  Crawford  was  happy,  even  while  the 
•music  was  sounding  over  the  lake  and  nature  was  wooing 
him  with  her  midsummer  smile.  He  had  loved — he  yet 
loved — truly  and  devotedly  ;  and  without  his  realizing  what 
evil  influence  could  have  fallen  like  a  blight  upon  all  his 
hopes,  those  hopes  were  destroyed.  He  was  not  broken- 
hearted, as  he  had  believed  himself  to  be  while  laboring  under 
more  serious  bodily  illness :  he  was  only  sad;  but  that  sad- 
ness, he  believed,  would  remain  during  life.  Ah,  well ! — if 
life  and  health  were  still  to  be  his,  he  must  nerve  himself  to 
meet  whatever  of  sorrow  or  disappointment  might  come, 
and  bear  what  he  could  not  conquer.  So  thought  he  as  they 
rode  homeward,  when  John  for  a  time  ceased  that  constant 


S  H  O  U  L  D  E  It  -  S  T  K  A  P  S.  403 

stream  of  chat  for  which  a  wounded  arm  did  not  in  the  least 
disable  him.  He  little  knew  how  a  lumbering  stage  was  at 
the  same  hour  setting  down  a  dusty  little  woman  in  a  gray 
travelling-dress,  at  a  country  village  hundreds  of  miles  away, 
whose  acts  and  words  were  to  produce  so  marked  an  effect 
on  his  own  destiny. 

These  details  of  very  ordinary  events  in  the  Crawford 
family,  which  followed  the  re-union  of  the  two  brothers,  may 
seem  very  uninteresting  and  common-place;  and  yet  they 
are  necessary  for  the  possible  understanding  of  what  so  soon 
followed.  For  the  letting  in  of  sunshine  on  a  dark  place  may 
not  only  warm  and  illumine  that  place  for  a  time  but  make 
the  continuance  of  sunshine  a  necessity.  And  going  out  into 
the  sunshine  may  have  the  same  effect.  The  school-boy, 
once  let  out  for  his  "  play-spell,"  may  have  great  objection  to 
spending  so  many  hours,  thereafter,  over  his  books  in  the 
dusky  school-room ;  and  Xature,  after  a  time,  may  develope 
the  fact  that  he  needed  the  reviving  and  strengthening  edu- 
cation of  the  outer  world,  much  more  imperatively  than  the 
additional  education  of  the  brain  which  he  would  have  ac- 
quired within  the  sound  of  the  teacher's  voice.  Nature's 
hygiene  is  very  little  understood,  but  it  is  at  the  same  time 
very  simple  and  very  powerful.  The  sun  contains  the  great 
mystery  of  health  and  hardihood,  and  the  man  who  carefully 
shuts  himself  away  from  its  rays  is  arranging  for  the  same 
kind  of  existence  which  the  -unfortunate  plant  is  forced  to 
experience,  growing  under  the  shelter  of  a  rotten  log,  succu- 
lent, tender  and  perishable.  The  fire-worship  of  the  Ghebers. 
was  founded  upon  common-sense ;  and  no  doubt  the  first 
kneeling  adoration  of  the  sun-worshippers  both  of  Persia  and 
Peru,  was  paid  by  some  poor  fellow  who  had  been  sick, 
attenuated  and  miserable,  who  had  finally  crawled  out  into  the 
sunshine  after  long  confinement,  and  who  believed  that  there 
must  be  some  supernatural  influence  in  the  life  radiating 
from  the  great  orb  and  bounding  through  every  half'-chil led 
vein.  The  inventor  of  parasols  and  sun-shades  should  have 
bnii  executed  immediately  on  the  announcement  of  his  in- 
vention, for  In'  has  been  the  means  of  shutting  away  the  Fa 
of  more  than  half  the  world,  and  especially  the  fairer  portion, 


40±  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

from  their  best  inanimate  friend,  the  BOB,  of  making  sallow 
complexions  and  lack-lustre  eyes,  and  of  causing  a  demand  for 
cosmetics  that  would  never  have  been  known  had  the  sun-god 

been  allowed  to  steal  kisses  from  the  cheek  of  beauty  and 
leave  there  the  ruddy  glow  of  health  as  a  compensation  for 
the  privilege. 

To  induce  a  belief  on  the  part  of  Richard  Crawford  that 
he  was  well  enough  and  strong  enough  to  leave  the  house  to 
which  he  had  been  so  long  confined,  had  been  found  a  little 
difficult.  The  ice  once  broken,  the  next  adventure  into  the 
summer  sunshine  would  need  far  less  inducement  So  it 
proved.  And  so  it  happened  that  within  four  days  from  the 
time  when  he  believed  that  he  was  committing  suicide  by 
adventuring  to  the  Central  Park,  he  permitted  himself  to  be 
persuaded,  under  the  sanction  of  the  doctor,  into  taking  a 
step  which  was  certain  to  test  his  powers  of  enduranee  pretty 
thoroughly — nothing  less  than  going  to  Niagara  Falls. 

Of  course  this  movement  originated  with  John  Crawford 
the  Zouave,  whose  original  restlessness  had  not  been  a  whit 
quieted  by  the  ever-moving  adventure  of  a  year  in  the  army. 
The  city  was  growing  unendurably  hut,  he  said,  so  that  he 
every  day  expected  to  find  the  paving-stones  splitting  to 
pieces  with  the  heat,  and  the  fish  boiling  in  the  X orth  River. 
It  was  ten  degrees  worse,  he  averred,  than  he  had  experienced 
in  Virginia  either  season  ;  and  such  a  thing  as  a  hot  day  had 
never  been  known  at  Niagara,. even  by  the  oldest  inhabitant. 
(Perhaps  the  young  man  altered  his  opinion  on  that  point, 
visiting  it  especially  during  the  early  days  of  July,  1862  !) 
Dick  would  grow  worse  again — he  knew  he  would — and  lose 
the  little  strength  he  had  gained,  sweltering  in  such  an  un- 
ventilated  pig-stye  as  the  city.  Come  ! — there  were  to  be  no 
more  words  about  it ! — they  should  all  go  to  Niagara  ! 

Puchard  Crawford  was  at  first  alarmed — then  puzzled — ■ 
then  a  little  delighted.  Bell,  who  did  not  often  fall  into  the 
peculiarly  girlish  weakness  of  clapping  her  hands,  did  so  on 
this  occasion.  She  had  missed  Niagara  for  the  previous  two 
years  ;  and  this  season,  owing  to  the  serious  illness  of  her 
brother,  she  had  expeeted  to  be  debarred  the  privilege  of  ex- 
hibiting her  unimpeachable  summer  wardrobe  (which  she  had 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  405 

not  quite  forgotten)  at  any  of  the  watering-places.    Richard's 

rapid  improvement  and  this  restless  suggestion  of  John, 
seemed  like  a  god-send.  She  voted  for  Niagara,  if  Richard 
felt  that  he  could  endure  the  fatigue  of  the  journey.  His 
citadel  surrounded  on  two  sides  in  that  manner,  and  the  genial 
old  doctor  faithless,  there  was  little  else  left  than  a  surrender, 
and  Richard  Crawford  surrendered. 

Stop  ! — there  was  something  of  which  neither  had  thought 
for  a  moment !  They  had  a  guest,  whose  wishes  should  be 
consulted  the  more  religiously  because  she  would  make  no 
parade  of  them.  Would  Marion  Hobart,  who  mourned  in 
heart  if  not  in  the  sombre  hue  of  her  garments,  for  her  last 
relative  so  lately  dead — would  she  be  pleased  to  go  into  the 
gay  world  of  a  fashionable  watering-place  ?  Not  content, 
but  jileased?  If  she  would  not,  the  project  must  be  aban- 
doned, whatever  the  temptations  to  go  forward.  Bell,  who 
had  the  moment  before  been  about  commencing  her  action  as 
a  committee  of  one  to  overhaul  Richard's  laid- away  warbrobe 
and  discover  what  additions  would  be  necessary,  had  the 
sphere  of  her  operations  suddenly  changed  by  being  sent  up- 
stairs to  sound  the  inclinations  of  the  young  Virginian  girl 
on  the  subject. 

She  found  Marion  Hobart  half  en  deshabille,  lying  upon 
the  bed  in  her  own  little  chamber,  busily  reading  and  comparing 
the  letter-press  with  the  coats-of-arms,  in  a  copy  of  the  Eng- 
lish Peerage  which  she  had  found  in  Dick's  little  library,  and 
to  which  she  had  exhibited  a  scandalously  aristocratic  taste 
by  paying  more  attention  than  to  all  the  other  books  in  the 
house. 

u  Have  you  ever  been  at  Niagara,  Marion  ?"  asked  Bell 
Crawford,  leaning  over  her  with  a  sisterly  caress 

"  No,"  answered  the  young  girl,  looking  away  from  her 
book,  but  without  any  indication  of  rising  or  any  sign  of  that 
anxious  agitation  which  inevitably  brightens  the  faces  of  most 
American  girls  who  have  not  seen  the  world's-wonder,  when 
that  magic  word  is  uttered  in  their  presence.  "Father  and 
some  friends  wen;  at  Saratoga  once,  when  1  was  a  very  lit  lie 
girl.  But  father  was  drowned  at  sea.  Grandfather  never 
came  North.' 


406  SHOULUER-STUArS. 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  Niagara  ?"  was  Bell's  second  ques- 
tion. 

"I  do  not  know,*  answered  the  young  Virginian  girl,  with 
strange  coolness  and  candor.  "  I  think  I  should  like  to  see 
it  as  well  as  anything  else.  I  have  not  seen  many  waterfalls. 
I  once  saw  the  Falls  of  the  Black  Fork  of  Cheat ;  and  I  saw 
the  Natural  Bridge  They  are  both  in  Virginia  I  do  not 
know  wnether  I  should  like  Niagara  or  not." 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  there.  Suppose  brother  and  myself 
were  going  to  Niagara  and  should  ask  you  to  go  with  us — • 
would  you  be  pleased  to  go  1" 

"I  would  as  lief  go  as  stay  here  or  go  anywhere  else,"  said 
the  singular  girl. 

"  I  thought  you  might  possibly  have  objections  to  going, 
because  there  is  so  much  company  at  Niagara,  and  because 
you  have  so  lately  lost  your  grandfather — that  is  why  I  asked," 
explained  Bell. 

"  I  do  not  mind  the  company.  They  are  nothing  to  me.  I 
do  not  niourn  for  my  poor  grandfather  aloud.  But  you  are 
very  kind  to  think  of  me,"  answered  the  little  enigma.  And 
with  that  very  unenthusiastic  endorsement  of  the  Niagara 
project,  Bell  Crawford  was  compelled  to  descend  the  stairs 
and  make  report  of  the  event  of  her  embassy.  But  the  result 
was  held  to  be  rather  satisfactory  than  otherwise,  and  the 
hastily-devised  arrangements  for  Niagara  went  forward. 

To  pass  rapidly  over  that  movement,  the  manner  of  which 
does  not  in  any  degree  affect  the  progress  of  this  narration, 
let  it  be  said  that  on  Wednesday,  the  9th  of  July,  the  two 
brothers,  the  sister  and  their  guest,  with  the  proper  array  of 
the  "  great  North  River  travelling-trunks  "  and  other  baggage, 
took  the  steamer  Daniel  Drew  for  a  sail  by  daylight  up  the 
Hudson,  as  the  mode  of  making  half  the  journey  least  fatiguing 
to  the  recovering  invalid.  That  the  three  New  Yorkers,  to 
whom  the  scenery  of  that  noble  river  was  thoroughly  familiar, 
clapped  hands  and  shouted  their  joy  once  more,  nearly  all 
day,  at  the  flashing  blue  of  the  river,  the  rafts  of  steamboats, 
sloops  and  tows  that  continually  came  sweeping  down  it,  the 
rugged  frowning  of  the  Palisades,  the  narrow-passes  and  rug- 
ged peaks  of  the  Highlands,  and  the  long,  blue,  uneven  line 


S  H  9  U  L  D  K  R  -  S  T  R  A  I'  S.  407 

of  the  Cattskills,  with  the  white  glimmering  of  the  Mountain 
House,— while  the  young  Virginian  girl,  introduced  to  that 
scenery  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  seemed  to  maintain  her 
calmness  and  comparative  insensibility.  That  they  rested 
for  the  night  at  Albany,  out  of  respect  to  the  comfort  of  the 
invalid— John  Crawford  submitting  under  protest,  and  de- 
claring Albany,  after  Washington,  the  most  unendurable  "  one- 
horse  town  »  in  the  universe.  That  they  took  the  cars  of  the 
Central  Road  in  the  morning,  Richard  being  so  pillowed 
among  cloaks  and  blankets  and  shawls,  that  he  had  quite  the 
comfort  of  lying  in  an  ordinary  bed;  and  that  on  Thursday 
night,  the  Tenth  of  Jul}',  when  the  full  moon  had  risen  so  high 
in  heaven  as  to  make  the  coming  midnight  a  very  mockery  of 
day,  they  rolled  into  the  village  of  Niagara  Falls,  and  found 
a  resting-place  at  the  still  wide-awake  and  ever-lively  Cata- 
ract. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

Tom  Leslie  at  Niagara — A  Dash  at  Scenery  There— 

A   Rencontre— Dexter    Ralston    Once    More Union 

Man  or  Rebel  ? — Tom  Leslie  Discounted. 

* 
It  will  be  remembered  that  Tom  Leslie,  leaving  Josephine 
Harris  with  a  sigh  of  regret  at  Utica  (those  jolly  fellows  do 
Sigh  sometimes,  after  all !)  went  onto  Niagara  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  Fifth  of  July.  Walter  Lane  Harding  had  promised  to 
join  him  at  the  Cataract,  early  in  the  following  week,  if  he 
could  so  arrange  his  business  as  to  leave  the  city  on  Sunday 
or  Monday;  but  jtlst  now  Leslie  was  alone — worse  alone 
than  he  ever  remembered  to  have  been  at  any  former  period 
of  his  life.  Lost  one  night  in  a  pass  of  the  Apennines,  with 
some  doubts  whether  he  should  ever  be  able  to  find  his  way 
to  supper  and  civilization,  he  had  been  lonely  enough  for 
comfort;  and  pacing  his  solitary  night  round  as  a  sentinel 


403  B HO 0 %  DE R-S  T  B  A  P  S. 

under  the  frowning  guns  of  Sebastopol,  he  had  felt  that  an- 
other friendly  human  face  would  be  pleasant  to  see  and  a 
friendly  human  voice  something  not  be  despised  ;  but  neither 

of  those  .situations  could  for  a  moment  compare  with  the  lone- 
liness of  that  summer  afternoon  and  evening,  while  he  was 
bowling  along  through  the  Genesee  Valley. 

The  absence  of  the  whole  world  is  a  grief,  when  we  do  not 
wish  to  be  alone,  but  that  is  a  grief  in  the  general.  The 
coming  of  any  one  person  will  break  the  spell  and  fill  the 
void.  But  the  absence  of  the  one,  immediately  after  earth 
and  air  have  seemed  to  be  full  of  the  sacred  presence,  is  grief 
in  the  particular.  Only  one  can  fill  that  void,  and  the  coming 
of  that  one  is  for  the  time  impossible.  The  company  of 
thousands  of  others  is  then  an  aggravation  and  an  insult, 
making  the  loneliness  worse  by  contrast  with  the  apparent 
companionship  of  all  others. 

Tom  Leslie  (this  fact  may  have  been  sufficiently  indicated 
before) — Tom  Leslie  was  deeply,  irrevocably,  hopeles.-ly  in  love, 
and  he  had  not  even  taken  the  ordinary  pains  to  deceive  him- 
self on  the  subject.  Het  had  found  his  destiny  and  submitted 
to  it,  after  a  long  period  of  immunity.  He  had  every  reason 
to  know  that  his  regard  was  returned  ;  and  he  had  no  reason 
to  doubt,  though  not  an  explicit  word  had  been  spoken  to 
warrant  the  belief — that  when  he  asked  the  corresponding 
question  of  Josephine  Harris,  as  he  certainly  meant  to  do  at 
a  very  early  day,  her  answer  would  be  a  frank  and  satisfactory 
— yes  !  So  much  for  content  and  the  future.  But  Tom,  like 
many  another  child,  had  no  propensity  for  waiting,  and  liked 
his  sugar-plums  note  as  well  as  to-morrow.  He  would  have 
liked  to  give  up  business,  ignore  propriety,  and  have  the  com- 
pany of  the  odd  combination  of  female  graces  and  weak: 
who  had  won  him,  all  the  while  for  the  present,  and  after- 
wards by  way  of  variety.  So  he  felt  at  that  moment,  at 
least;  and  it  was  with  more  than  one, *or  two,  or  a  dozen 
yawns  and  "  Heighos  !"  and  several  short  naps  that  happened 
along  on  his  travel  like  cities  of  refuge,  that  he  managed  to 
wear  through  the  last  hours  of  his  journey. 

But  Tom  Leslie,  the  cosmopolitan  and  journalist,  would 
have  been  unworthy  the  experience  through  which  he  had 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  409 

passed,  bad  he  lacked  the  power  to  erdure  what  he  disliked. 
He  could  never  have  digested  horse-beef  among  the  Kalmucks, 

or  stomached  the  rancid  sour-krout  of  Old  Haarlem,  without 
this  indispensable  qualification.  So,  though  on  the  night  of 
his  arrival  at  the  Cataract  he  allowed  the  thunder  of  thefall 
to  call  him  in  vain  to  a  view  by  the  broken  moonlight,  and 
though  he  tumbled  into  bed  within  ten  minutes  after~his  late 
and  light  supper  and  went  sullenly  to  sleep  as  if  there  had 
not  been  a  woman  in  the  world  worth  thinking  of,— yet  he 
was  in  quite  another  mood  the  next  morning. 

Niagara  was  unusually  full  for  so  early  a  period  in  the 
season,  the  leading  houses  being  already  crowded,  though 
principally  by  transient  visitors.  The  Fourth  of  July,  then 
just  passed,  had  been  kept  with  unusual  vigor  and  display,  in 
the  way  of  powder,  fireworks  and  general  patriotism  at  the 
International,  the  Cataract  and  all  the  other  more  popular 
houses— partially,  no  doubt,  because  the  evil  eyes  from  across 
the  river  began  to  be  noticeable,  and  because  the  red-cross 
flag  had  been  more  conspicuously  displayed  at  the  Clifton 
House  and  on  the  flag-staff  at  the  Museum  at  Table  Rock, 
than  in  ordinary  seasons. 

But  whatever  changes  might  have  occurred  in  personal 
and  national  feeling,  Tom  Leslie  felt,  as  he  strolled  across  the 
bridge  and  over  Goat  Island,  on  the  morning  after  his  arrival, 
that  there  had  been  no  change  which  the  human  eye  could 
perceive,  in  the  great  cataract  or  its  surroundings,  since  he 
had  looked  upon  it  for  the  last  time  before  his  departure  for 
Europe,  when  that  narrow  river  supplied  the  northern  boun- 
dary of  what  seemed  to  be  a  united  and  happy  nation.  Hu- 
manity is  changing,  inconsistent  and  unreliable  :  Nature  is 
calm,  grand,  and  verges  on  the  eternal.  He  saw  that  the 
great  American  Rapid  still  came  thundering  down,  "like  a 
herd  of  white  buffaloes  with  wild  eves  and  sea-green  manes," 
ns  a  graphic  writer  has  described  it  ;  that  the  grand  old  trees 
with  their  gloomy  immensity  of  shade  and  the  thousands  of 
unknown  and  long-forgotten  names  carved  upon  their  bark, 
still  stood  as  sentinels  along  the  beaten  pathways  over  the 
l-lni). 1  ;  that  the  thunder  of  the  Fall  still  kept  the  whole  solid 
mass  of  the  Island  in  one  creeping  and  trembling  shudder,  as 


410  S  II  o  L*  L  DE  R  -  ST  B  A  P  S. 

if  a  Blight  earthquake  was  just  passing,  with  a  dull,  heavy 
boom  like  that  of  a  continuous  distant  cannonade,  coming  up 
in  the  pauses  of  tlie  wind. 

He  saw,  too,  as  he  paid  his  inevitable  quarter  at  the 
toll-house  on  the  causeway,  that  the  course  of  "honest  in- 
dustry" (i.  e.,  that  blatant  humbug  which  eternally  taxes  the 
pockets  for  superfluities)  had  not  been  checked  ;  for  the  usual 
amount  of  birchen-canoes,  bead-caps  and  feather-fans  with 
sprawled  birds  in  the  centre,  were  on  sale  under  peculiarly 
aboriginal  auspices.  And  that  the  whole  race  of  Jehus  had 
not  relieved  society  by  going  to 'be  killed-off  in  the  war,  he 
became  painfully  aware  by  the  number  of  villainous-looking 
wretches  armed  with  dilapidated  whips,  who  beset  him  on 
the  bridge  and  offered  to  convey  him  anywhere  for  something 
less  than  the  mere  pleasure  of  his  company.  Tom  Leslie  had 
been  somewhat  too  familiar  in  other  lands  as  well  as  his  own, 
with  such  human  vermin  as  those  with  the  whips,  and  such 
fungi  temptations  to  extravagance  as  those  that  hung  from 
the  tawmy  hands  and  beckoned  from  shelves  and  glass  cas<  3, — 
to  pay  them  much  attention  or  receive  much  annoyance  from 
them ;  and  so  he  passed  on  across  the  Island,  to  look  once 
more  upon  the  great  English  Fall  and  the  Canada  shore 
beyond. 

Emerging  from  the  woods  upon  the  high  bank  overlooking 
the  English  rapids,  the  whole  unequalled  scene  burst  once 
more  on  his  viewT,  as  he  had  patriotically  tried  to  remember  it 
when  looking  at  Terni  and  Schaffhausen.  He  had  carried 
the  sight  and  almost  the  roar  with  him,  in  memory,  ready  to 
dwarf  with  them  all  that  the  European  world  could  presenJ; ; 
and  so  sacred  seemed  the  thought  of  that  wonder  of  nature 
which  could  form  such  a  talisman,  that  the  broad  hat  was  in- 
sensibly lifted  from  his  brow  as  he  caught  the  first  new 
glimpse,  and  he  stood  before  the  Fall  fairly  uncovered  as  he 
might  have  done  on  the  crest  of  the  Judean  hills,  overlooking 
the  first-seen  Jerusalem. 

The  dark  and  rugged  Canadian  shore  was  full  in  view  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  with  the  Clifton  House  and  the 
Museum  glimmering  brightly  in  the  morning  sunlight,  and 
the  red-cross  flag  waving  sluggishly  from  both  as  if  in  defi- 


SHOULDER-STKAPS.  411 

once  of  the  great  nation  that  lay  So  near  and  jet  could  not 
38  the  little  patch  of  land  over  which  it  floated.  The 
Boree-Shoe  Tower  stood  as  of  old,  still  unconquercd  by  the 
fierce  rapids  striving  to  undermine  it;  and  around  base  and 
balcony  swarmed  visitors  who  seemed  like  pigmies  not  so 
much  on  account  of  the  distance  as  because  they  were  dwarfed 
and  belittled  in  the  presence  of  the  immense  and  the  im- 
measurable. All  these  things  lay  broadly  in  sight  of  the 
journalist  on  that  glorious  Sunday  morning,  and  perhaps  at 
another  time  he  might  have  seen  and  attempted  to  describe 
them  ;  but  not  then.  He  for  the  moment  failed  to  see  what 
was  before  him,  and  he  saw  something  else  not  revealed  to 
every  eye. 

Tom  Leslie  was  either  the  master  or  the  slave  of  a  power- 
ful imagination.  Some  who  knew  him  said  the  one,  and  some 
the  other.  But  all  agreed  as  to  the  possession  of  the  faculty  ; 
and  it  was  not  always  that  his  soberest  and  most  conscien- 
tious relations  (in  type)  were  received  without  a  shade  of 
suspicion  on  that  account.  It  may  have  been  that  the  lone- 
liness of  the  night  before  had  not  quite  worn  away,  and  that 
it  left  him  sadder  and  more  impressible  than  usual ;  and  it  may 
have  been  that  the  one  element  before  wanting  in  his  nature, 
that  of  earnest  and  undivided  human  love,  had  changed  him 
when  it  was  supplied.  At  all  events,  there  was  a  something 
in  that  wondrous  scene,  that  came  to  him  that  morning  as  he 
had  never  before  known  it — something  that  came  to  him  from 
dream-land,  and  made  the  sight  of  his  eyes  only  the  exercise 
of  a  secondary  faculty.  He  saw,  with  this  peculiar  sight,  all 
the  features  of  the  scene  that  we  have  noted,  and  another  and 
one  strikingly  unusual,  in  a  shipwreck  in  the  rapids. 

Two  days  before,  on  the  Fourth,  and  in  honor  of  the  day,  a 
knot  of  gay  fellows  had  procured  an  old  schooner,  hoisted 
white  streamers  at  the  tops  of  her  stripped  masts,  and  sent 
her  down  the  river  into  the  rapids  from  Chippewa  Creek,  ex- 
pecting to  enjoy  the  rare  pleasure  of  seeing  her  leap  over  the 
Falls  and  emerge  in  little  fragments  and  splinters  of  timber  in 
the  river  below.  Thousands  had  gathered  on  the  Canadian 
shore,  and  on  Goat  Island,  to  witness  a  prank  never  matched 
in  audacity  since  the  British  "  guerrillas  "  from  the  other  side, 
26 


•±12  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

in  the  time  of  the  Canadian  rebellion,  seized  the  steamer 
"Caroline"  at  Schlosser,  set  her  on  fire,  and  sent  her  down 
the  Falls — an  act  which  almost  lit  the  torch  of  war  bo  effectu- 
ally between  the  two  countries,  that  all  the  waters  which  i 
whelmed  the  "  Caroline  "  would  not  have  been  enough  to 
quench  it. 

But  with  reference  to  the  old  schooner,  sent  down  from 
Chippewa  Creek  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  She  had  only  shown 
that  human  calculations  are  not  infallible,  even  when  they 
presage  disaster.  The  thousands  assembled  to  witness  the 
destruction,  had  been  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  current 
had  swept  the  boat  well  over  on  the  Canadian  side,  and  there* 
some  unknown  edd}'  had  seized  and  driven  her  between  two 
sunken  rocks,  where  she  lay  as  safe  from  any  danger  of  the 
Falls  as  if  she  had  been  ten  miles  below  them,  instead  of  half 
a  mile  above.  She  lay,  bow  up  the  river,  inclined  lengthwise, 
as  if  she  had  been  caught  when  shooting  down  the  Lactone 
Eapids,  and  the  white  streamers  on  her  bare  masts  fluttering 
out  to  the  winds  as  signals  of  distress  that  would  have  been — 
ah  !  so  hopeless  and  useless  with  human  life  on  board  and  in 
peril. 

At  the  first  moment  of  beholding  the  old  wreck,  Tom  Leslie 
found  her  a  prominent  feature  in  the  spectacle,  and  his  reflec- 
tions took  a  shape  which  may  have  been  taken  by  those  of 
many  sojourners  at  the  Falls,  who  saw  her  during  the  season  : 

"  There  she  lies  to-day,  and  there  she  may  lie  for  many  a 
long  month,  gradually  weakening  and  breaking  apart  from  the 
action  of  the  rapids  surging  around  her,  until  some  night  when 
the  wind  comes  fiercely  down  the  river,  and  heavy  storms 
have  increased  the  volume  of  water  as  well  as  loosened  the 
last  bolt  that  yet  holds  her  securely  together, — then,  when 
there  is  none  to  witness  the  death-throe  of  wood  and  iron, 
she  will  heave  and  labor  and  at  last  break  apart.  The  two 
fragments  will  go  sweeping  down,  whirled  over  like  play- 
things— touching  the  points  of  the  rocks  and  giving  out  groans 
and  shrieks  like  those  which  precede  dissolution ;  then  for 
one  moment  there  will  be  a  dark  mass  poised  on  the  edge  of 
the  Fall,  and  the  next  there  will  be  one  more  deafening  crash 
added   even  to  the  thunder   of  the  water.-.      A  few  broken 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  4  lo 

splinters  will  go  swooping  away  down  the  dark  river,  and  all 
will  be  over." 

ISut  what  was  it  that  Tom  Leslie  saw,  more  than  is  revealed 
to  the  natural  eyes,  looking  on  that  scene  when  he  had  con- 
templated it  for  a  few  moments  ?  This  and  only  this — but 
quite  enough  to  make  the  memory  of  that  moment  immortal. 
He  saw  it  applied  to  the  human  heart  and  human  life.  The 
water  pouring  over  the  Horse-shoe  Fall  ceased  for  the  mo- 
ment to  be  the  falling  water  of  this  real  world,  and  became 
some  weird  stream  falling  thunderously  and  in  white  glory 
through  the  land  of  dreams.  The  dark  misty  gulf  into  which 
it  [toured  below  was  not  the  physical  abyss  over  which  the 
natural  man  must  stand  with  a  shudder,  but  the  unfathomed 
pit  of  woe  and  sorrow  into  which,  in  nightmare  dreams,  man 
has  been  ever  falling  yet  never  destroyed,  since  the  first  vi- 
sions of  early  childhood.  The  tower  ceased  to  be  a  palpable 
mass  of  wood  and  stone,  and  became  human  hope  and  energy, 
with  the  clear  blue  sky  of  God's  providence  above,  beaten  by 
storms  and  undermined  by  fierce  currents  every  moment 
threatening  it  with  destruction,  but  standing  yet  through  all. 
And  the  old  wrecked  schooner  above  had  ceased  to  be  a  mere 
material  wreck  of  plank  and  timber  and  iron — it  was  one  of 
those  unreal  but  sadder  wrecks  of  a  human  life  and  a  human 
soul,  stranded  for  the  moment  on  the  rock  of  some  great  ca- 
lamity, and  eventually  to  be  swept  away  and  engulphed  by 
the  inevitable. 

There  had  been  a  slight  veil  of  haze  shrouding  the  sun 
for  the  previous  half  hour;  but  as  Tom  Leslie  partially 
awakened  from  his  dream  and  listlessly  descended  the  stairs 
cut  in  the  bank,  towards  the  bridge  leading  to  the  Tower, 
the  mist  rolled  away,  the  sun  broke  forth  in  the  glory  of 
high-noon,  and  out  of  the  darkness  below  sprang  an  arch  of 
light  that  almost  made  the  journalist,  who  was  too  old  and 
too  world-hardened  for  such  exhibitions,  clap  his  hands  and 
cry  :  "  The  rainbow  !  the  rainbow  !"  Of  old  he  had  seen  the 
rainbow  spanning  the  eastern  heaven  when  looking  out  at 
early  evening  from  the  home  of  his  childhood,  and  when  the 
thunder-storms  of  summer  were  dying  away  over  the  Atlan- 
tic ;  but  here  it  was,  a  thing  of  arms'  reach,  and  at  his  feet ! 


41-4  SHOULDER-STRATS. 

At  one  moment  it  merely  glimmered  up  through  the  mist 

from  the  bed  of  the  river,  a  little  broken  space  of  the  arch, 
and  the  colors  dim  and  indistinct ;  anon  the  sky  grew  brighter 
and  the  column  of  mist  rose  higher  ;  and  now  it  formed  more 
than  the  half  circle,  the  top  a  little  above  the  level  of  the 
Fall, — and  the  blue,  and  gold,  and  green,  and  orange,  and 
purple,  painted  so  brightly  on  the  retina  of  the  eye  that  they 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  the  very  air  the  observer  was  inhaling. 
How  near  he  stood,  impressible  Tom,  at  that  moment,  to  the 
eternal  mystery  ! — how  near  to  the  workshop  in  which  seem 
to  be  flashed  out  from  eternal  forges  the  beauties  of  the  sun- 
shine and  the  storm  !  Climbing  down  from  the  bridge  to  » 
the  end  of  the  rock,  leaning  tremblingly  over  and  looking 
down  into  the  misty  gulf  below  with  that  Jacob's  Ladder  of 
faith  set  therein — it  is  not  strange  that  the  journalist  for  one 
moment  wished  for  a  line  and  plummet  to  drop  into  that 
reservoir  of  golden  glory  and  bring  up  some  memento  of 
what  seemed  so  near  to  the  celestial ; — just  as  one  wishes, 
sometimes  when  the  midnight  heaven  is  darkest  and  the  stars 
are  burning  most  purely  there,  to  be  able  to  stretch  forth  a 
hand  among  the  stellar  lights  and  bring  it  back  bathed  with 
that  radiance  which  is  so  fearfully  beautiful. 

Leslie  had  no  intention  of  ascending  the  tower  that  day —  . 
other  days  would  be  his  at  Niagara,  and  something  must  be 
saved  for  each.  Besides,  he  had  breakfasted  lightly  and  an 
unromantic  call  for  lunch  was  being  made  on  faculties  quite 
as  delicate  as  his  mental  perceptions.  He  had  accordingly 
just  turned  again  and  ascended  the  stairs  to  the  bank  in  front 
of  the  Pavilion,  when  the  fates  (ever  kind  to  him  in  this  re- 
gard, as  to  every  other  true  lover  of  nature)  vouchsafed  him 
one  moment's  glimpse  of  a  spectacle  often  wished  for  and 
seen  but  seldom.  Turning  for  one  last  glimpse  as  he  walked 
away,  at  that  instant  his  eye  was  resting  on  the  sharpest 
point  of  the  curve  of  the  Horse-shoe  Fall,  where  the  volume 
of  water  is  evidently  deepest,  and  where  from  that  depth  it 
makes  one  broad  unbroken  sweep  of  amber  green  as  it  plunges 
over,  without  one  fleck  of  foam  to  mar  it.  He  was  just  scan- 
ning for  an  instant  that  calm  depth,  and  sa}ing  that  there 
was  after  all  the  majesty  of  Niagara — there,  where  the  great 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  415 

green  flood  approaches  the  awful  precipice,  impelled  by  a  re- 
sistless force  from  above,  but  unruffled  and  untroubled  by  the 
approaching  f:d<i — bends  gracefully  and  proudly  at  the  verge, 

as  sonic  dusky  Antoinette  might  do  her  proud  neck  when 
He  axe  of  the  executioner  was  impending — then,  still  with- 
out a  ripple  or  a  tremor  takes  the  last  long  plunge  as  Curtius 
may  have  done  when  the  gulf  was  open  in  the  Forum  and  he 
rode  down  the  Aventine  and  spurred  out  into  thin  air  to 
fulfil  the  omens  of  the  augurs  and  save  the  perilled  life  of 
Rome, — he  was  just  feeling  and  saying  this,  when  a  dark 
speck  appeared  at  the  very  edge  of  the  green.  It  was  a  log, 
perhaps  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  length,  over  the  Fall  ! — a 
mere  log,  nothing  in  another  place,  but  everything  in  the  place 
it  for  that  moment  occupied.  For  one  instant  he  saw7  it  hang 
trembling  on  the  verge,  then  for  another  its  dark  outlines 
were  thrown  into  clear  relief  against  the  bright  green  water 
with  the  sunshine  glimmering  through  ;  and  then  down,  down 
it  was  hurled,  rushing  like  an  arrow's  flight  into  the  feathery 
foam  of  the  broken  water  below,  and  at  last  (so  far  as 
human  eye  could  ever  know)  into  the  blinding  mist  at  the 
bottom  of  the  cataract.  What  a  reed  upon  the  brook  had 
been  that  log,  that  might  have  required  the  strength  of  a 
dozen  men  to  lift  it  from  the  ground  ! — what  is  the  might 
with  which  the  elements  make  playthings  of  what  seem  to 
mortal  strength  dense  and  immoveable — even  as  the  great 
Powrer  that  is  equally  above  nature  and  above  man,  "  holdeth 
the  mountains  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and  taketh  up  the 
isles  as  a  very  little  thing  !" 

"  By  George  !"  said  Leslie.  "  What  a  lucky  dog  I  am  ! 
I  have  known  a  thousand  people  who  wished  for  just  such  a 
view,  and  I  have  had  it  all  alone,  after  all !"  lie  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  holding  conversations  aloud  with  himself;  but 
he  had  been  so  impressed  as  to  speak  aloud  involuntarily,  in 
this  instance. 

"  Xo,  not  quite  alone,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Leslie  !"  said  a 
dec])  voice  behind  him,  and  at  the  same  instant  a  hand  was 
laid  upon  his  shoulder.  He  turned,  and  met  the  powerful 
form  and  singular  face  of  Dexter  Ralston,  the  Virginian. 

It  was  not  unnatural  that  Leslie  should  be  surprised  ;  and 


416  S  H  O  r  L  1 »  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  T  S. 

it  would  be  idle  to  say  that  he  was  no1  even  Btartled  at  this 
most  unexpected  meeting,  remembering  what  la1  did  of  the 

last  three  occasions  on  which  lie  had  met  this  man — in  each 
instance,  as  be  had  reason  t<>  suppose,  his  observation  being 
unknown  to  the  other.     He  might  have  been  pardoned  if  he 

even  shuddered,  remembering-  the  connection  which  he  be- 
lieved Ralston  to  bear  towards  the  "  red  woman" ;  and  he  was 
too  ardent  a  Union  man,  as  we  have  seen,  not  instantly  to 
remember  the  ambiguous  circumstances  under  which  he  had 
twice  seen  him,  and  the  chase  after  him  and  his  companions 
which  had  cost  him  so  long  a  ride  only  a  few  days  before.  It 
may  be  said,  in  this  place,  that  he  had  heard  nothing  from 
Superintendent  Kennedy,  before  leaving  the  city,  of  the  watch 
placed  upon  the  house  and  its  result, — and  that  after  the 
second  adventure  of  the  house  on  Prince  Street,  and  the 
opening  of  the  new  channel  into  which  his  thoughts  and 
feelings  had  been  led  by  the  meeting  with  Joe  Harris,  he  had 
not  thought  proper  to  follow  up  the  mystery,  and  consequently 
had  no  knowledge  that  any  of  the  parties  had  left  Xew  York. 

All  those  thoughts,  and  the  counter  one  that  the  man  before 
him  had  really  done  him  no  harm  but  had  once  rendered  him 
an  important  service — passed  through  the  mind  of  Leslie  ho 
quickly  that  the  other  must  have  been  a  close  observer  to 
know  that  they  were  passing  at  all.  As  a  result,  by  the  time 
that  they  became  fairly  confronted  and  Dexter  Ralston  held 
out  his  hand,  that  of  Tom  Leslie  met  him  with  all  apparent 
frankness. 

"Mr.  Ralston," he  said, owning  a  part  of  the  truth,  "really 
you  surprised  me." 

"So  I  suppose,"  said  the  other;  "and  yet  I  have  been 
standing  here,  leaning  against  one  of  the  posts  of  the  Pavil- 
ion, for  several  minutes  ;  and  I  am  certainly  not  so  small  of 
stature  as  to  be  easily  overlooked." 

"  No,"  laughed  Leslie.  And  then  he'added.  "  But  yonder 
is  something  larger.  The  Falls  dwarf  everything,  and  I 
suppose  hide  everything." 

';  Very  probably,"  said  Ralston.  "  "Were  you  walking  back 
towards  the  bridge  ?  Shall  I  walk  with  you  ?  That  is — I 
moan  to  ask — are  }~ou  alone  ?" 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  417 

" Oh  yes,  all  alone  !"  said  Leslie.  "I  am  at  the  Cataract. 
And  you — arc  you  staying  here  ?" 

"  I  have  been  staying  at  the  Clifton,"  answered  the  other, 
as  they  strolled  back  across  the  Island.  "  But  just  now  I  am 
at  the  Monteagle.  It  is  long  since  we  met,"  he  added.  "  You 
have  been  in  Europe,  have  you  not  ?  I  think  you  told  me 
you  were  going,  when  I  saw  you  last." 

"Yes,"  said  Leslie,  "I  have  been  in  Europe  again,  and 
only  came  back  last  spring."  But  he  added  a  mental  enquiry 
that  was  by  no  means  shaped  into  words:  "Did  I  say  to 
him  that  I  was  going  to  Europe  ?  or  does  he  keep  watch  of 
me  and  know  my  every  movment,  through  the  mysterious 
agency  of  the  woman  of  the  Rue  la  Reynie  Ogniard  ?" 

"  You  are  a  newspaper  man  still  ?"  asked  Ralston,  after  a 
momentary  silence,  as  they  walked  on. 

"  Yes,"  said  Leslie,  "I  am  still  at  that  drudgery,  in  my 
own  way,  and  shall  probably  never  be  freed  from  it.  But 
you  see  that  I  do  not  stick  so  closely  to  the  desk  as  to  injure 
my  health  very  much  !  And  you— excuse  my  asking  the 
question,"  and  he  tried,  walking  at  his  side  though  he  was,  to 
mark  closely  whether  the  question  produced  any  effect  on  the 
face  of  the  other—"  but  the  truth  is,  Ralston,  that  I  scarcely 
expected  to  meet  you  in  the  North  at  the  present  moment.  I 
thought  you  so  incarnate  a  Southerner,  as  well  as  a  slave- 
holder, that  you  would  have  been  likely  to  join  in  the  rebel- 
lion !" 

"  Xo,  did  you  ?"  asked  Ralston  ;  and  if  his  face  changed, 
certainly  Leslie,  close  observer  as  he  thought  himself,  could 
not  detect  the  difference.  "  Well,  I  must  say  that  you  put 
the  matter  plainly.  You  should  have  thought  better  of  an 
eld  friend,  and  remembered  that  if  I  was  a  Virginian  I  was 
also  and  still  more  an  American." 

How  openly  and  with  what  apparent  honesty  the  man 
spoke  !  And  how  impossible  it  seemed  that  he  could  be 
uttering  other  words  than  those  of  entire  truth  ?  But  Tom 
Leslie  remembered  the  night  under  the  arches  of  the  Capitol, 
the  stars-and-bars  and  the  mystic  circlet  of  the  house  on 
Prince  Street,  and  the  mysterious  words  that  procured  ad- 
mission to  the  house  up-town  \  and   he   had  seen  and  heard 


413  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

enough  of  double  faces  not  to  be  too  sure  of  his  ground  ok 

any  man's  word. 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  to  know  it,"  he  said,  in  reply  to  Ralston's 
disclaimer.  "We  have  not  too  many  true  Union  men,  who 
have  forgotten  the  particular  part  of  the  Union  in  which  they 
icere  born,  for  the  sake  of  the  country  and  the  whole  country. 
I  am  glad  to  know  that  you  are  one  of  them.  He  laid 
peculiar  stress  on  the  more  important  words  of  the  last  sen- 
tence, and  bent  his  eyes  still  more  searchingly  on  the  counte- 
nance of  the  singular  man  before  him. 

"  How  long  do  you  remain  ?"  asked  Ralston,  as  they  neared 
the  end  of  the  bridge. 

"A  few  days  only,"  answered  Leslie — "perhaps  a  week  or 
two.     I  came  up  to  catch  the  moon  on  the  Falls. 

"  You  should  have  come  in  time,  then,  and  seen  the  eclipse," 
said  the  Virginian. 

"  Aha  !"  said  Tom  Leslie  to  himself.  "  One  point  of  in- 
formation gained,  if  no  more  !  He  is  a  little  in  the  habit  of 
being  at  Niagara,  for  he  was  here  at  the  full  moon  in  June 
and  he  has  since  been  absent !  One  touch  inside  your  armor, 
old  fellow,  if  no  more  !  You  were  here  to  see  the  eclipse] 
then  ?"  he  asked  aloud  of  Ralston.  "  I  tried  to  come  myself, 
but  could  not  manage  it.  What  was  it  like,  if  you  saw  it  over 
the  Falls  ?" 

"  I  was  staying  at  the  Clifton  House,  then,"  said  Ralston, 
"  and  I  came  down  to  Table  Rock,  alorte,  just  after  midnight, 
and  sat  there  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  obscura- 
tion. You  should  have  seen " — and  here  his  undenialile 
though  repressed  poetical  temperament  began  to  show  itself 
in  his  cheek  and  eye — "  you  should  have  seen  the  dull,  dis- 
mal shadow  gradually  creeping  over  the  rapids  as  the  disk 
grew  smaller,  every  flashing  wave  seeming  to  be  touched  with 
a  ghastly  reflection  that  said  :  '  Daylight  and  moonlight  are 
both  gone  forever — the  last  darkness  is  creeping  on — the  end 
of  all  things  is  at  hand.'  The  spray  below  the  cataract  seemed 
dun  and  lead-colored,  as  if  it  might  have  been  the  sulphurous 
smoke  rolling  up  from  a  battle-field.  All  was  splendidly  dis- 
mal, let  me  tell  you  ! — such  a  spectacle  as  few  men  see  and 
no  man  who  sees  ever  forgets  !" 


SnO  U  LDER-STR  APS.  419 

"And  what  was  the  appearance  of  the  moon  when  fully  ob- 
Bcured  P1  asked  Leslie,  almost  breathless  with  interest  at  the 
strangely  graphic  words  of  the  Virginian,  and  no  longer  won- 
dering, after  those  words,  that  there  should  have  been  a  con- 
nection between  the  mysterious  "red  woman"  and  one  who 
s  Mined  so  nearly  of  her  mental  kin. 

u  It  was  no  moon,"  answered  Ralston,  and  his  dark  eyes 
seemed  to  lose  all  their  fierceness  and  grow  inexpressibly  sad 
and  solemn  as  he  spoke.  "  It  was  no  moon  !  It  was  a  mere 
unreal  shadow  and  mockery — the  dead  ghost  of  a  moon  that 
had  been,  perished  long  ago,  and  embodying  all  the  griefs  and 
all  the  sorrows  that  had  weighed  down  the  heart  of  man  since 
the  Creation.  The  waters  of  Niagara  lay  beneath  it,  as  if 
under  a  pall  that  had  settled  over  a  dead  world !" 

"  I  should  have  liked  to  see  it — I  would  have  travelled  a 
thousand  miles  to  see  it,  had  I  thought  so  far  !"  said  Leslie, 
with  the  earnestness  of  a  lover  of  Nature  under  all  her  aspects. 

"  Would  you  ?"  said  Ralston.  "  Well,  it  was  something  to 
see  once  :  I  should  scarcely  like  to  trust  the  brain  of  the  man 
who  saw  it  much  oftener.  I  must  leave  you,  but  I  hope  I 
shall  meet  you  again.  Here  boy!"  beckoning  to  one  of 
the  lounging  hack-drivers  at  the  hotel-end  of  the  bridge, 
"  Drive  me  to  the  Monteagle.  Good-bye !"  and  away  he 
whirled,  leaving  Leslie  to  look  after  him  until  out  of  sight, 
and  to  say  to  himself  as  he  walked  up  the  esplanade  over  the 
rapids : 

"I  thought  that  /  was  an  oddity  and  a  contradiction,  but 
that  fellow  can  discount  me  !  I  don't  know  half  as  much 
about  him  now,  as  I  did  the  first  moment  I  saw  him  !" 


420  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CIIAPTER  XXVII. 

Si.  IKTY  AND  SH0TJIJ)ER-StRAPS  AT   THE  PALLS — TOM  LESLIE 

Annexing  Canada — Meeting  of  the  New  Yorkers — 
Another  Rencontre,  a  Mysterious  Disappearance  and 
a  General  Wonder. 

Tom  Leslie  was  not  left  to  loneliness  and  his  own  resources 
very  long  at  the  Cataract,  for  Walter  Lane  Harding  reached 
Niagara  at  noon  on  Monday,  having  left  New  York  on  Sim- 
day  (.'veiling.  Though  even  had  Leslie  been  left  to  hie  "  own 
resources,  "these  resources  were  somewhat  more  numerous  than 
usual,  and  he  was  never  much  in  the  habit  of  being  so  bmvd 
by  Time  as  to  be  obliged  to  lay  plots  against  its  life.  In  the 
first  place — no,  that  should  be  the  second  place — he  had  his 
duties  as  a  newspaper-correspondent  at  a  leading  and  fashion- 
able resort,  which  entailed  a  letter  every  day,  but  which  did 
not  entail,  let  us  say,  the  chronicling  of  the  details  of  hops 
and  evening  assemblies,  after  a  manner  somewhat  scandalously 
prevalent,  with  descriptions  of  the  "  charming  dress  worn  by 

Miss  A ,"  the  "elegance  and  grace  of  the  accomplished 

Miss  B ,"  and  all  the  other  disgusting  and  indecent  Jenk- 

insism  of  the  initials,  together  with  fulsome  laudations  of  the 
table  and  even  the  laundry  of  the  hotel,  leading  to  the  impres- 
sion that  the  correspondent  is  upon  free  board  and  even  free 
washing!  Our  cosmopolitan  had  outlived  that  phase  of  cal- 
low journalism,  long  before  ;  and  the  managing-editor  would 
have  been  a  bold  one  who  should  now  have  proposed  to  him 
to  re-enter  that  most  contemptible  of  all  literary  harness. 
What  he  was  to  write  and  what  he  did  write,  catching  up  the 
prevailing  topics  of  conversation  and  tones  of  feeling,  with 
sensational  descriptions  of  scenery  and  incident  interspersed 
like  under-tones  to  joyous  music, — men  who  have  hearts, 
brains  and  breeding  will  at  once  recognize,  and  others  will 
never  know  under  any  detail  of  information. 

What  Tom  Leslie  found  it  necessary  to  do  in  the  first  place, 
was  to  write  a  letter  per  day,  and  occasionally  two,  to  a  cer- 
tain lady  temporarily  located  at  West  Falls,  Oneida  County, 


S  IT  O  U  L  D  E  M  -  S  T  11  A  P  S.  421 

that  lady  having  very  kindly  given  him  her  address  with  per- 
mission to  use  it,  and  having  promised  to  answer  these  epis- 
tles with  brief  and  maidenly  little  notes  of  her  own.  When 
it  is  said  that  as  early  as  Monday  he  received  one  of  those 
notes,  and  that  for  an  hour  thereafter  he  had  very  indefinite 
ideas  as  to  which  end  of  the  human  figure  was  intended  for 
the  purposes  of  locomotion,  it  will  be  understood  that  both 
parties  to  the  compact  were  carrying  out  their  agreement 
with  praiseworthy  faithfulness. 

But  even  without  the  duties  devolved  upon  him  by  love  or 
newspapers,  Tom  Leslie,  a  trained  observer  of  society  around 
him,  would  have  found  plenty  of  occupation  on  the  favorite 
promenades  and  in  the  parlors  and  halls  of  the  International 
and  Cataract.  Such  a  complete  and  total  revolution  in  so- 
ciety was  beginning  to  show  itself,  in  the  gradual  dropping 
away  of  the  old  "  good  families  "  who  years  before  had  made 
Niagara,  Saratoga  and  Newport  their  Meccas  at  midsummer; 
such  bloated  pretenders,  with  unlicked  cubs  of  families,  the 
"  shoddy  aristocracy  "  who  had  first  aided  to  make  the  war, 
and  then  make  dishonest  fortunes  from  it,  had  come  up  to 
take  their  places,  with  everything  about  them,  sire  and  son, 
mother  and  daughter,  new,  arrogant  and  unpleasant';  and 
there  was  such  a  marked  absence  of  that  Southern  element 
which  in  other  days  had  supplied  money  to  obsequious  waiters 
and  green  girls  to  needy  fortune-hunters, — that  there  seemed 
to  have  been  a  complete  turn  of  the  kaleidoscope,  and  it  almost 
puzzled  an  old  habitue  to  know  whether  he  had  not  exchanged 
lands  as  well  as  years. 

And  something  else,  of  no  secondary  importance,  presented 
its  claims  to  notice.  This  was  the  "  blue  and  buttons  " — the 
11  absenteeism  "  to  which  notice  has  been  before  so  often  called 
during  the  progress  of  this  narration.  The  result  of  the 
Seven  Days'  Battles  was  just  coming  to  the  sojourners  at  Ni- 
agara, through  the  Buffalo  and  New  York  papers  ;  and  while 
the  Fourth  of  July  address  of  McClellan  to  his  soldiers,  which 
came  among  the  other  items  of  news  from  the  army,  and  which 
was  then  and  there  being  read  and  commented  upon,  showed 
that  the  last  chance  of  victory  was  not  yet  lost,  it  showed  at  the 
same  time  how  fearfully  the  ranks  of  our  armies  had  been 


422  SHOULDER-STRATS. 

thinned  and  what  a  necessity  there  was  thai  every  man  who 

had  pretended  to  be  a  soldier,  and  who  had  from  any  cause 
been  so  far  absent  from  the  held,  should  return  at  once  and 
aid  to  sustain  the  perilled  cause.  And  yet  through  every 
corridor  of  the  leading  houses  at  Niagara,  in  every  parlor,  on 
every  walk  and  on  every  piazza,  sat,  stood,  walked)  read, 
smoked  or  flirted,  the  blue-clothed,  buttoned,  shoulder-strap- 
ped, jaunty-capped,  natty-whiskered  and  killingly-moustached 
officers  of  the  Union  army,  who  had  sworn  to  serve  the  coun- 
try and  aid  to  defend  the  republic, — but  who  paid  no  more 
attention  to  the  pleading  call  of  the  generals  in  the  field  or 
the  authoritative  voice  of  the  President,  than  they  would  have 
done  to  a  blind  piper  playing  in  the  street !  It  was  easier  to 
dawdle  than  to  light  or  even  do  duty  in  camp  :  it  was  more 
pleasant  to  bask  in  the  admiring  smiles  of  silly  girls  who 
should  have  turned  their  eyes  into  basilisks  to  blast  the  indo- 
lent and  miserable  cowards — than  to  dare  the  July  sun  on  the 
banks  of  the  James,  or  run  the  risk  of  a  flash  from  the  enemy's 
cannon.  Men  who  had  the  welfare  of  the  republic  at  heart, 
turned  sick  when  they  looked  at  these  hale,  hearty  and  on* 
wounded  absentees  from  an  honorable  service,  every  man  of 
them  daily  breaking  his  oath  to  his  country  and  his  obliga- 
tions to  his  own  conscience.  This  was  one  more  of  the  phases 
of  society  at  Niagara,  which  Tom  Leslie  was  called  upon  to 
note  down  and  study  during  those  opening  days  of  July,  and 
one  of  the  evils  which — shame  to  the  nation  that  it  should  be 
so  ! — is  only  now  *  beginning  to  find  a  partial  remedy. 

But  it  has  been  said  that  Walter  Harding  reached  Xiagara 
at  noon  on  Monday,  and  thenceforth  Leslie  had  a  companion 
in  most  of  his  strolls  and  observations.  Harding's  calm  face 
looked  a  little  jaded  with  close  attention  to  business  in  hot 
weather  and  a  time  of  financial  trouble;  he  had  not  bee* 
quite  so  frequent  a  rambler  at  the  Falls  as  Leslie,  and  had 
some  points  of  interest  yet  to  visit  in  the  neighborhood,  espe- 
cially on  the  Canada  side  ;  he  was  fonder  of  the  road  and 
less  fond  of  observations  among  the  crowd  of  sight-seers  and 
summer-loungers,  than  his  friend ;  and  as  a  consequence,  after 

March  14th,  1S63. 


SHOULD  B  R  -  S  T  S  A  P  S.  423 

his  coming,  riding  took  the  place  of  lounging  to  a  great  de- 
gree. Nothing  with  reference  to  these  rides,  most  of  which 
took  place  along  the  green  lanes  and  among  the  fertile  fields  of 
Brantford  County,  deserves  notice  ill  this  place,  except  one 
phase  of  the  peculiar  character  of  Leslie,  half-earnest  pa- 
triotism and  half-tormenting  mischief.  He  found  plenty  of 
ill-feeling  towards  the  United  States,  among  the  Canadians, 
and  as  much  effort  as  possible  to  depreciate  the  Federal  cur- 
rency. Thenceforth  his  special  anxiety  was  to  vex  and  annoy 
as  many  of  the  Canadians  and  native  English  as  possible, 
and  verbally, at  least,  to  annex  the  two  Canadas  to  the  Union. 

Going  up  to  the  top  of  the  Observatory  at  Lundy's  Lane, 
on  their  Tuesday-morning  ride,  among  the  other  visitors  who 
Were  listening  to  the  ten-thousandth  repetition  of  the  story 
of  the  battle  of  Niagara  (varied  to  suit  customers),  told  by 
the  old  soldier  who  either  wras  or  was  not  a  participant  in 
the  battle,  they  found  one  true  John  Bull  from  the  mother 
country, — a  stout,  thick-set,  florid-faced  man  of  middle-age,  uot 
over-intelligent  but  very  earnest  and  enthusiastic.  Leslie 
marked  him  as  a  victim  and  began  at  him  at  once. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  not  heard  the  telegraphic  reports  from 
^Washington,  this  morning  ?"  he  said  to  the  Englishman,  after 
some  conversation  with  reference  to  the  battle  had  brought 
them  to  terms  of  speaking  acquaintance. 

"  Xo,"  answered  the  Englishman.  "  Anything  of  conse- 
quence V9 

"I  should  think  so!"  said  Leslie,  very  gravely.  "Wtt 
between  the  United  States  and  England,  beyond  a  doubt," 

"  God  bless  my  soul  !"  said  John  Bull.     "  No  ?» 

"  Sure  as  you  live  !"  said  Leslie,  while  Harding  shook  his 
head  and  knitted  his  brows  at  him  as  a  hint  to  be  careful  how 
far  he  went  with  his  mischief— a  signal  which  was  misinter- 
d  by  some  of  the  bystanders  to  mean  that  he  should  not 
have  betrayed  the  intelligence.  "  Lord  Lyons  made  a  demand 
on  Secretary  Seward,  yesterday  morning,  to  open  the  ports 
of  Charleston  and  Savannah  within  twenty-four  hours,  for 
the  free  exportation  of  cotton.  Secretary  Seward  at  once  re- 
fused to  open  them  at  all  before  the  conclusion  of  the  war  or 
the  First  of  January  1000;  and  Lord  Lyons  immediately  ex- 


42-i  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

hibited  his  instruction?  to  come  homo  by  tlio  first  steamer  if 
the  demand  was  not  acceded  to.  He  left  Washington  last 
evening,  and  will  sail  for  England  by  the  steamer  of  to- 
morrow." 

Some  of  the  auditors — intelligent  visitors  from  the  hotels, 
and  other  well-informed  people,  saw  the  joke  and  humored  it. 
Others,  prepared  for  almost  any  item  of  startling  news,  and 
not  too  well  up  in  national  affairs,  took  it  all  for  sober  earm 
John  Bull  was  completely  mystified. 

"Good  heavens  !"  he  said.     "  Can  this  be  possible?" 

"I  must  hurry  back  !"  said  Leslie,  warming  into  broader 
mischief,  and  pulling  out  his  watch.  *'  Non-intercourse  be- 
tween the  two  countries  may  be  proclaimed  at  any  moment, 
and  in  that  case  I  should  be  a  prisoner  !" 

"  God  bless  me  "  said  the  Englishman.  "  In  that  case  I  had 
better  get  over  to  the  International  and  look  after  getting  part 
of  my  baggage  that  is  there,  over  on  this  side  of  the  river  !" 

"I  should  advise  you  to  do  so  at  once,"  answered  Leslie, 
quite  as  gravely  as  before.  "  I  winder  whether  we  shall  be 
stopped  on  our  way  back,  or  not  ?  However,  it  is  a  matter  of 
not  much  consequence.  If  any  of  us  should  be  taken  prison- 
ers and  kept  over  here,  it  would  not  be  for  long.  Our  peoplo 
will  of  course  overrun  Canada  within  a  week,  and  annex  it  to 
the  Northern  States." 

"  Oh,  they  couldn't  do  that,  you  know  !"  said  John  Bull, 
who  might  believe  anything  else,  but  who  could  not  possibly 
be  brought  to  believe  anything  against  the  power  of  the 
British  Government  or  its  colonies,  when  in  arms. 

"  I  believe  that  you  are  an  Englishman  by  birth  ?  Am  I 
mistaken  ?"  asked  Leslie,  in  a  tone  of  ministerial  gravity  and 
dignity. 

"  Xot  at  all  mistaken,  sir,"  said  the  Englishman,  proudly. 
"John  Hazelton  Butts,  Leakington,  Monmouthshire." 

"John  Thompson,  Jr.,  late  Secretary  of  Legation  to  the 
Duchy  of  Parma,"  said  Leslie,  picking  up  the  first  names  that 
happened  to  come  into  mind,  and  bowing  in  return.  "  You 
seem,  Mr.  Butts,  to  be  a  highly  intelligent  gentleman — " 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  the  Englishman,  who 
had  at  least  caught  the  fictitious  title. 


S  II  U  U  L  D  E  K  -  S  T  B  A  P  B.  425 

"  But,  sir,"  Leslie  went  on,  "  it  is  impossible  that  any 
foreign  resident  should  know,  concerning  affairs  on  this  con- 
tinent, what  necessarily  conies  under  our  knowledge.  Per- 
haps you  will  be  a  little  surprised  when  I  tell  you  that  there 
is  a  secret  order  existing  all  along  the  borders  of  the  States 
adjoining  these  provinces,  numbering  more  than  three  hun- 
dred thousand  men,  all  drilled  weekly,  and  all  sworn,  in  the 
event  of  any  opportunity  occurring,  to  seize  upon  the  Canadas 
and  Xew  Brunswick  at  once  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  am  surprised,"  said  the  Englishman.  "  This  is 
really  the  case  ?" 

" Really  and  incontestably,  sir,"  answered  Leslie.  "You 
will  see  at  once,  sir,  what  chance  there  could  be  of  defending 
these  provinces  against  such  an  inroad.  But  come,  Smith  1" 
addressing  Harding,  "we  must  really  hurry  back  before  the 
bridge  cleses.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Butts  ! — good  morning, 
gentlemen  !"  and  Leslie  hurried  down  from  the  observatory 
and  away,  accompanied  by  Harding.  Whether  the  English- 
man at  once  went  over  after  his  baggage,  or  not,  is  uncertain. 

"  What  is  the  use  of  all  that,  Tom  ?"  asked  Harding,  when 
they  were  once  more  in  the  carriage  and  rolling  along  the 
privet-hedged  lanes. 

"  Use  ?  oh,  plenty  of  use  I— fun  I  I  have  been  as  grave 
as  a  judge  for  nearly  a  week  ;  and  besides,  every  Englishman 
whom  I  succeed  in  making  thoroughly  uncomfortable,  is 
one  scion  of  the  stock  of  perftde  Albion  paid  off  for  all  old 
scores  !" 

11  Humph  !"  said  Harding.  "  You  are  incorrigible,  and  that 
is  all  that  can  be  said  about  it." 

Close  to  the  edge  of  one  of  the  fields  along  which  they 
were  driving,  some  laborers  were  at  work,  hoeing  potatoes. 
There  were  some  splendid  grain-fields  adjoining,  and  at  a  little 
distance  stood  a  handsome  farm-house  with  thrifty-looking 
out-buildings.  Leslie's  spirit  of  mischief  was  now  up,  and 
nothing  but  exercise  could  calm  it. 

"  Hallo,  there  !"  he  called  to  the  laborers,  stopping  the 
carriage  at  the  same  time.  One  of  the  working-men  stopped 
his  work  and  came  up  to  the  fence 

"Whose  farm  is  this  r 


426  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  Mr.  Bardeleau's,  sir." 

"  Oh,  Bardeleau  !    I  know  him.     Crops  look  finely.1' 

"  Yes,  very  finely,  sir,"  answered  the  workman. 

"  Going  to  the  house  soon  ?" 

"Yes.  sir,  going  in  to  dinner  before  long,"  answered  the  man. 

u  Well,  my  good  man,"  said  Leslie,  "be  good  enough  to 
give  Mr.  Bardeleau  the  regards  of  Mr.  Thompson,  Inter- 
national Hotel,  an  old  friend  of  his,  and  to  tell  him  that  war 
has  just  broken  out  between  England  and  the  United  States, 
and  that  the  President  has  this  morning  issued  a  proclama- 
tion annexing  Canada  to  the  State  of  New  York.  Good 
morning." 

Mischief  #of  this  character  varied  and  enlivened  the  per- 
formances of  that  day  and  the  next,  Harding  alternately  en- 
joying and  protesting  against  it.  But  on  the  third  day  there 
was  a  decided  change  in  the  programme.  Running  over  the 
register  at  the  desk,  before  breakfast  on  Friday  morning, 
Leslie  found  the  following  four  names,  arrivals  of  the  night 
before  :  "  Richard  Crawford — John  Crawford — Miss  Isabel 
Crawford — Miss  Marion  Hobart — New  York  City." 

"  Why,  here  are  acquaintances — or  at  least  one  of  them  !" 
he  called  to  Harding,  who  was  at  a  little  distance.  He  might 
have  said  more  than  one  acquaintance,  with  propriety,  for 
though  he  had  met  none  of  the  Crawfords  except  Bell,  he 
knew  so  much  of  them  from  Josephine  Harris  that  he  seemed 
to  have  known  them  for  a  twelvemonth. 

"  Who  are  they  ?"  asked  Harding,  busy  with  a  carriage- 
order. 

"  The  Crawfords — and  somebody  else  with  them,"  an- 
swered Leslie.  "  You  remember  the  young  ladies  on  Broad- 
way, the  impudent  scoundrel  and  the  caning,  a  few  days 
ago — one  of  them  a  Miss  Crawford" — 

"Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Harding,  with  a  little  flush  rising 
suddenly  to  his  face.  He  also  remembered,  beyond  a  doubt, 
that  he  had  been  very  much  impressed  by  that  young  lady, 
and  that  had  he  dared,  he  would  have  called  at  her  house 
before  leaving  the  city.  Here  she  was,  brought  accidentally 
into  the  same  hotel  with  himself,  and — .  What  else  he 
thought  may  be  left  to  the  imagination.     "  Yes,  I  remember," 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  427 

he  said.  "  And  the  other  lady — Miss  Harris,  is  she  in  the 
company?" 

"  No,"  said  Leslie,  "  she  does  not  appear  to  be."  ("  Appear 
to  be  !" — just  as  if  that  scamp  did  not  know  where  she  was, 
and  as  if  he  had  not  a  letter  in  his  pocket  from  her  !)  "  No, 
see — Miss  Crawford  and  her  two  brothers,  with  another  lady 
whose  name  I  have  never  heard  before." 

The  result  of  this  discovery  was  that  the  parties  met  at 
breakfast,  a  slight  flush  (corresponding  to  that  of  Harding  a 
little  while  before)  mounting  to  the  face  of  Bell  Crawford  as 
she  introduced  the  two  friends  to  her  brothers  and  Miss 
Hobart.  Very  naturally,  thereafter,  though  there  was  an 
overplus  of  males  and  a  deficiency  of  females  to  make  the 
association  perfect,  the  two  parties  blended,  and  in  the  future 
plans  for  sight-seeing  and  amusement  each  made  arrange- 
ments for  and  calculated  upon  the  other. 

They  were  just  passing  from  the  breakfast-room — that  cool 
breakfast  and  dining-room  of  the  Cataract,  overlooking  the 
lower  rapids  with  the  clumped  little  islands  near  the  bridge, — 
when  Leslie  caught  sight  of  a  figure  crossing  the  hall. 

"  Look — quick  !"  he  said,  touching  the  arm  of  Harding. 
"  Look  down  the  hall  There  he  is,  now !  Do  you  not 
recognize  him  ?" 

Harding,  to  whom  Leslie  had  of  course  told  the  story  of 
his  late  rencontre,  looked  in  the  direction  indicated.  Just  for 
one  instant  the  face  of  the  person  alluded  to  was  turned 
towards  them,  and  Harding  plainly  distinguished  that  it  was 
that  of  the  Virginian  whom  they  had  seen  at  the  corner  of 
Houston  Street  on  the  night  of  the  opening  of  this  story. 
He  had  but  a  moment  to  observe,  for  the  tall  man  was  almost 
at  the  office-door,  and  in  an  instant  he  had  disappeared 
through  it.  At  the  same  instant  Marion  Hobart  uttered  a 
quick,  sharp  cry,  and  staggered  against  John  Crawford,  as  if 
about  to  fall.  All  the  party  gathered  around  her  instantly, 
two  or  three  of  the  waiters  came  up,  and  for  the  moment 
attention  was  distracted  from  everything  beside. 

"  I  had  a  sudden  pain  here.  I  do  not  feel  very  well.  If 
you  please  I  will  go  up  to  my  room  and  lie  down  a  little 
while.  But  I  shall  soon  be  better,"  said  the  young  Virginian 
91 


428  SHOULDKR-STRAPS. 

girl,  in  response  to  the  anxious  inquiries  of  her  friends  as  to 
the  cause  of  the  sudden  cry  and  the  evident  paleness  of  her 
face. 

In  compliance  with  her  wish  Bell  Crawford  accompanied 
her  up-stairs ;  and  the  moment  after,  Tom  Leslie  stepped 
into  the  office-door  through  which  he  had  seen  Dexter  Ralston 
disappear.  He  was  not  there.  h\  reply  to  an  inquiry,  the 
clerk  said  that  a  tall  man,  whom  he  had  seen  several  times 
before,  had  come  into  the  room  and  stepped  to  the  counter  a 
moment,  perhaps  to  examine  the  register,  but  that  he  had 
almost  instantly  gone  out  again.  Leslie  looked  through  the 
halls  and  upon  the  piazza,  a  little  perplexed  by  the  sudden 
appearances  and  disappearances  of  this  man  ;  but  he  was  not 
in  sight  anywhere — he  had  evidently  left  the  house. 

Before  quitting  the  breakfast-table,  it  had  been  arranged 
that  the  whole  reinforced  party  should  use  the  fine  morning 
for  a  ride  over  the  bridge  into  Canada,  a  three-seated  car- 
riage being  called  into  requisition.  But  after  the  gentlemen 
had  waited  a  few  moments  for  tidings  from  the  sudden  in- 
valid, Bell  Crawford  came  down-stairs  again  and  announced 
that  they  would  be  obliged  to  take  the  ride  without  female 
company,  as  Miss  Hobart  felt  too  much  indisposed  to  ride 
and  would  remain  in  her  room,  and  she  could  not  think  of 
leaving  her  entirely  alone  in  a  strange  house  on  the  first  day 
of  their  arrival.  Marion,  she  said,  had  proclaimed  her  willing- 
ness to  remain  alone,  and  had  even  urged  her  to  go,  but  she 
had  refused  and  would  remain. 

This  arrangement  did  not  precisely  please  any  of  the  gen- 
tlemen, and  least  of  all  it  pleased  Walter  Lane  Harding,  who 
had  lately  ridden  over  all  that  ground  quite  often  enough 
unless  he  was  to  go  over  it  this  time  in  peculiarly  pleasant 
company.  He  had  an  insane  belief,  by  this  time,  that  Miss 
Bell  Crawford  was  "  very  pleasant  company."  But  there  was 
little  else  to  do,  than  to  obey  the  decrees  of  fate ;  one  of  the 
ladies  was  temporarily  an  invalid,  and  the  other,  for  hu- 
manity's sake,  must  play  nurse ;  the  gentlemen  could  have 
little  of  their  society,  at  least  for  the  morning ;  and  so  half 
an  hour  afterwards,  while  Bell  Crawford  returned  up-stairs, 
fortified  with  a  novel  and  two  Buffalo  papers,  to  perform  her 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  429 

self-denying  office  of  Good  Samaritan,  the  four  gentlemen 
took  an  open  landau  and  were  whirled  down  to  the  Suspen- 
sion Bridge  and  over  to  the  Canada  side. 

Their  drive  had  lasted  perhaps  three  hours  and  covered 
nearly  twenty  miles,  when,  hastening  back  to  dinner,  they 
drove  in  at  the  gate-house  on  the  Canada  side  of  the  Sus- 
pension Bridge.  A  close-carriage  was  just  leaving  the  bridge 
at  the  same  moment.  Between  this  and  the  carriage  in 
which  the  four  friends  were  seated,  a  clumsy  furniture- wagon 
attempted  to  pass  at  the  moment  when  they  stopped  to  show 
tickets,  and  in  doing  so  the  driver  locked  his  wheel  with  that 
of  the  close-carriage  coming  over.  The  friends  noticed  that 
there  w^ere  trunks  on  the  rack  of  this  carriage,  and  that 
though  the  day  was  so  hot  and  sultry,  the  windows  were 
closed.  As  the  wheels  locked,  one  of  the  windows  was 
dashed  down  with  some  petulance,  and  a  head  appeared 
through  it,  while  a  sharp,  strong  voice  cried: 

"  Why  the  d — 1  don't  you  drive  on  ?" 

Both  Tom  Leslie  and  Walter  Harding  recognized  the  face 
and  voice  of  Dexter  Ralston.  The  latter,  glancing  at  the 
figures  in  the  landau,  observed  Leslie,  and  made  a  sign  of 
recognition.  By  this  time  the  wheel  was  cleared,  Ralston 
again  shut  the  window  sharply,  and  the  carriage  dashed  away 
at  full  speed  towards  the  custom-house  on  which  "  V.R." 
is  displayed  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  never  tread  upon 
British  soil  to  see  it  more  liberally  distributed. 

"  There  he  is  again  !"  said  Leslie  to  Harding. 

"  And  apparently  going  away,  by  the  trunks  on  the  rack,'7 
replied  Harding. 

"  Who  is  it  ?"  asked  John  Crawford. 

"  An  odd  character,  about  whom  we  will  tell  you  by-and- 
bye,"  said  Tom  Leslie.  "  He  is  a  Southerner,  but  he  must, 
have  been  born  in  a  very  hr/t  climate,  to  need  the  windows 
closed  on  such  a  day  as  this." 

"And  he  must  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Harding,  "by  his  im- 
patience and  the  speed  at  which  the  carriage  drove  away." 

They  drove  slowly  over  the  bridge  and  then  hurried  back 
towards  the  Cataract.  It  was  nearly  two  o'clock  when  they 
rear-hud  the  house,  and  the  riders  and  strollers  had  come  back 


430  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

from  their  various  wanderings  and  filled  the  halls  and  parlors, 
chatting,  looking  at  the  stereoscopic  views  arranged  for  the 
destruction  of  eyes,  and  waiting  for  dinner.  As  the  four 
friends  entered  the  hall  after  dismissing  the  carriage,  they 
were  met  by  Bell  Crawford,  who  seemed  to  have  been  looking 
out  for  them  from  the  head  of  the  stairs — her  face  pale,  her 
voice  thick  and  troubled,  and  her  general  appearance  fright- 
ened and  "flustered." 

"What  is  the  matter  ?"  asked  Richard  Crawford,  who  had, 
even  in  that  short  space  of  exposure  to  the  outer  air,  so  much 
improved  that  fatigue  rather  made  him  fresher  than  otherwise, 
and  who  might  even  then  have  been  called  "  almost  a  well 
man." 

"  She  is  gone  !"  cried  Bell,  drawing  John  and  Richard,  and 
the  others  insensibly  following,  into  an  unoccupied  corner  of 
the  parlor,  which  was,  however,  vacated  the  moment  after,  in 
answer  to  the  dinner-call. 

"  Who  is  gone  ?"  asked  John  Crawford,  alarmed. 

"  Marion  Hobart — gone — gone  away.  Oh,  what  can  it  all 
mean  ?"  said  poor  Bell,  almost  distracted  with  trouble  and 
wonder. 

"Marion  Hobart  gone?  gone  where — gone  how?"  asked 
John,  grasping  Bell  by  the  arm  with  his  one  unwounded 
hand. 

"  I  do  not  know — oh,  I  am  half  crazy  !"  said  the  poor  girl. 
"  All  that  I  know  is,  that  she  has  left  this  house  in  such  a 
manner  that  she  evidently  never  means  to  return  to  it." 

"  My  God  !"  said  John.  "  My  oath  ! — I  swore  to  take  care 
of  her!     Tell  me,  quick,  what  is  it  that  has  happened  ?" 

"I  will  tell  you  all  that  I  know,"  said  poor  Bell,  "  only  give 
me  time  and  do  not  frighten  me  any  worse  if  you  can  help  it. 
You  know  Marion  was  unwell,  and  that  she  went  up-stairs 
and  lay  down  on  her  bed.  Her  room  is  up  yonder  on  the 
next  floor,  number  Fifteen,  very  near  the  head  of  the  stairs. 
Mine  is  number  Sixteen,  adjoining.  She  lay  on  the  bed,  and 
I  sat  beside  her,  chatting  with  her,  though  she  seemed  to 
speak  wildly  and  as  if  frightened.  After  a  while  she  seemed 
drowsy  and  appeared  to  wish  to  go  to  sleep.  I  thought  I 
would  leave  her  alone,  then,  for  a  little  while,  to  sleep  ;   and 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  431 

I  took  my  book  and  went  out  on  the  little  balcony  at  the  end 
of  that  corridor.  I  waS  reading  '  John  Brent,'  and  I  suppose 
I  got  crazy  over  the  galloping  horses  going  down  to  Luggernel 
Alley,  for  I  read  for  perhaps  an  hour  without  hearing  or 
seeing  anything  else  than  the  things  in  my  book.  Then  I 
went  back  to  Marion's  room — it  was  not  an  hour  ago — and 
she  was  gone  !" 

''But  she  may  have  gone  down  on  the  Island — she  is  a 
strange  little  mortal — she  maybe  out  on  the  balcony  over  the 
rapids.  What  makes  you  think  that  she  is  gone,  as  you  call 
it  ?"  asked  John,  terribly  excited,  while  all  the  others  listened 
with  strange  interest. 

"  Oh,"  said  Bell,  "  I  know  that  she  is  gone  for  good" 
[Americanice,  "  finally"]  "  and  I  knew  it  the  moment  I  en- 
tered her  room.  Her  large  trunk  was  gone — the  one  you 
bought  her  the  other  day,  John  ;  her  clothing  was  gone — 
everything." 

''Astonishing  !"  said  Richard  Crawford. 

"  This  beats  romance !"  said  Tom  Leslie. 

"  It  just  beats  the  d — I  /"  said  John  Crawford,  who  must 
be  excused  for  using  such  words  in  the  presence  of  a  lady, — - 
because  he  was  only  a  rough  soldier.  "  And  that  is  all  you 
know,  is  it,  sister  ?" 

"No,"  answered  Bell  Crawford.  "I  know  a  good  deal 
more,  and  it  is  all  worse  and  worse.  I  got  the  chambermaid 
to  enquire,  and  she  found  that  a  tall  man  came  with  a  close 
carriage — " 

"  A  tall  man  ?  a  close  carriage  ?"  almost  gasped  Tom  Leslie, 
though  he  only  spoke  to  Walter  Harding.  "Do  you  hear 
what  she  says  ?  This  was  a  Virginian  girl — he  is  a  Virginian 
— his  being  here  this  morning — over  the  Suspension  Bridge — 
those  trunks  on  the  rack — by  George,  Harding — don't  you 
see  ?" 

" But  what  could  he  have  been  to  her?"  asked  Harding, 
who  did  not  yet  see  it  in  the  same  clear  light. 

Bell  Crawford  had  meanwhile  gone  on  with  her  story. — 
"  That  the  tall  man  went  up-stairs,  asking  one  of  the  waiters 
for  number  Fifteen,  and  that  five  minutes  afterwards  he  came 
down  with  a  very  small  lady,  dressed  for  travelling,  ordered 


432  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

down  the  baggage  from  that  room,  put  her  into  the  carriage 
and  got  in  himself  after  throwing  a  dollar  to  the  waiter  who 
brought  down  the  trunks  ;  and  that  then  the  carriage  drove 
rapidly  away  towards  the  Bridge." 

"By  George,  I  knew  it !"  said  Tom  Leslie,  this  time  so 
loudly  that  all  could  hear  him.     All  turned  to  him  in  surprise. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Richard  Crawford. 

"  That  I  believe  I  know  the  man  who  has  taken  away  this 
girl !"  answered  Tom  Leslie. 

"And  I  believe  that  I  do,  now,1''  said  Walter  Harding,  at  last 
fairly  convinced. 

"Stop,"  said  Bell.  "There  was  one  thing  I  forgot  to  tell 
you.  She  had  evidently  left  in  great  haste,  and  two  or  three 
little  things  were  left  scattered  around  the  room.  Here  are 
two  of  them,  that  I  picked  up  and  put  in  my  pocket — one  of 
her  tiny  little  shoes,  and  this  locket.  The  locket  I  have  be- 
fore seen  in  her  possession.  She  seemed  to  be  sorry  that  I 
had  seen  it,  as  I  accidentally  did,  and  said  that  it  was  the  por- 
trait of  a  dear  friend  of  her  family."  She  took  out  a  little 
slipper,  scarcely  too  large  for  an  ordinary  child  of  ten  years, 
yet  retaining  the  mould  of  the  graceful  atom  of  foot  that  had 
rested  warm  within  it ;  and  with  it  she  took  out  the  enamelled 
locket  we  have  before  seen,  and  handed  it  to  the  gentlemen. 
Tom  Leslie  grasped  it  with  an  almost  frantic  haste  and  threw 
it  open. 

"  Dexter  Ralston  !"  he  cried.  "  Look,  Harding  !  It  is  all 
explained  !  I  know,  now,  why  he  haunted  this  house,  and 
what  the  sharp  cry  meant  when  he  crossed  the  hall  this 
morning  !     Don't  you  see  !" 

They  did  see,  as  little  by  little,  while  the  dinner-dishes  were 
rattling  in  the  dining-room  adjoining,  Tom  Leslie  explained 
to  his  wondering  auditors  (Harding  only  excepted — who 
yawned  and  was  hungry)  so  much  of  the  antecedents  and 
character  of  the  strange  Virginian  as  could  bear  any  relation 
to  the  abduction — though  abduction  it  could  not  be  properly 
called.  That  that  singular  and  commanding  man  and  that 
equally  singular  mere  child  had  been  friends,  perhaps  lovers, 
was  evident ;  that  they  had  fled  away,  with  the  girl's  consent, 
beyond  the  hope  of  successful  pursuit,  was  equally  evident : 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  433 

and  here  the  mystery  for  the  time  shut  completely  down,  and 
they  knew  no  more. 

But  what  was  it  that  Mazeppa  said,  through  the  lips  of  his 
self-appointed  spokesman,  Byron,  of  the  impossibility  of 
escaping  the  patient  search  and  long  vigil  of  the  man  seeking 
revenge  for  wrong  ?  He  might  have  cited  another  motive, 
less  fierce  but  quite  as  powerful — curiosity!  Job  Thornberry 
may  give  up  his  search  for  the  name  of  the  destroyer  of  his 
daughter,  and  allow  her  to  break  her  heart  in  quiet ;  but  not 
so  Paul  Pry,  who  needs  a  full  explanation  of  the  scandal  for 
retail  purposes.  John  Crawford,  in  spite  of  the  oath  which 
he  could  now  no  longer  keep,  might  possibly  have  allowed 
the  mystery  to  rest  here,  had  not  Tom  Leslie,  who  had  sworn 
no  oath  whatever,  been  in  his  way.  Balked  in  New  York 
and  mystified  everywhere,  the  latter  gentleman  determined  to 
know  more — or  less  !  John  Crawford  only  needed  this  com- 
panionship ;  and  an  hour  after  the  discovery  of  the  abduction, 
the  two  once  more  whirled  over  into  Canada,  possibly  on  a 
longer  ride  than  the  one  they  had  just  concluded. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

The  Sequel  at  West  Falls — Colonel  Crawford's  Flight, 

and  how  it  was  accounted  for josephine  harris's 

Return  to  New  York,  and  Her  Disappointment — An- 
other Conspiracy. 

The  length  to  which  this  narration,  involving  the  fortunes 
of  so  many  different  persons,  has  already  extended,  renders  it 
necessary  that  some  of  the  succeeding  incidents  should  be 
passed  over  with  great  rapidity  and  in  some  instances  even 
grouped  together  without  order  or  arrangement. 

Were  the  opportunity  otherwise,  a  forcible  picture  might 
be  drawn  of  the  events  at  West  Fulls,  following  the  departure 
tr  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  and  the  discovery  of  his  flight 


4cJi  SHOULLEH-S  T  li  A  P  S. 

through  the  means  of  one  of  the  farm-hands  who  had  seen 
him  driving  rapidly  away  towards  Uticft.  Nearly  an  hour 
after  his  departure  had  elapsed,  before  Mary  Crawford  was 
aware  of  it ;  and  naturally  her  first  step,  on  being  informed 
that  he  had  left  the  village,  was  to  run  up  to  his  chamber. 
She  knocked  at  the  half-open  door,  her  heart  beating  with  as 
much  anxiety  for  fear  the  knock  should  be  answered,  as  many 
another  heart  has  beaten  in  fear  that  such  a  signal  would  not 
meet  a  response.  But  there  was  no  reply.  She  flung  the 
door  timidly  open,  and  went  in.  Everything  in  the  apartment 
remained  as  she  had  arranged  it  in  the  morning  for  (as  she 
supposed)  her  own  bridal  chamber.  The  Colonel's  valise  and 
some  portions  of  his  clothing,  had  not  been  removed,  and  this 
seemed  to  render  impossible  the  supposition  that  lie  had  really 
left  the  village.  But  his  sudden  absence  at  all,  after  what  had 
occurred,  gave  ground  to  believe  that  some  extraordinary 
movement  had  really  been  made  ;  and  on  the  little  table, 
after  a  moment,  the  young  girl  discovered  the  note  to  Jo- 
sephine Harris,  directed  under  her  own  care.  It  was  sealed, 
and  even  had  it  not  been,  propriety  would  have  prevented  her 
ascertaining  the  contents  ;  but  the  very  fact  of  there  being 
such  a  reply  left,  for  her  to  deliver,  told  that  the  shot  must 
have  sped  home,  and  that  the  expected  bridegroom  had  indeed 
fled  from  his  bridal. 

How  the  young  girl  managed  to  walk  to  her  own  room 
and  once  more  array  herself  for  the  street,  with  that  dizzy 
sensation  in  her  head,  half  of  joy,  half  of  fright — how  she 
silently  and  swiftly  quitted  the  house  again,  and  made  her 
way  through  the  blazing  afternoon  sunshine,  once  more  to  the 
little  house  of  Mrs.  Halstead, — she  will  probably  never  know. 
People  have  walked  in  dreams,  and  others  have  done  acts 
while  under  the  influence  of  waking  sleep,  for  which  they 
were  scarcely  responsible.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  at  three 
o'clock  that  afternoon  Josephine  Harris  was  aroused  from  the 
sound  slumber  by  which  her  sick-headache  was  being  rapidly 
cured — once  more  to  receive  the  young  girl,  whom  she  had 
little  expected  to  see  so  soon. 

When  she  descended  the  stairs,  she  found  Mary  Crawford 
standing  alone  within  the  door  of  the  sitting-room,  Susan, 


SHOULDER-S  TRAPS.  435 

who  had  admitted  her,  having  shown  the  innate  delicacy  of 
the  good  by  retiring  with  only  a  kind  word  and  a  sisterly  kiss. 
The  moment  Josephine  entered  the  room  and  saw  Mary 
Standing  there,  her  eyes  full  of  unnatural  brightness,  her 
cheeks  all  aglow  with  excitement  like  that  of  fever,  and  her 
glorious  auburn  hair  ruddy  dishevelled  under  her  gipsy  hat, — 
she  knew  that  her  own  effort  had  not  failed — that  surprise, 
and  not  disappointment,  was  the  feeling  written  upon  that 
speaking  face. 

Without  a  word  Mary  Crawford  threw  herself  into  Joe 
Harris's  arms,  then  slid  slowly  to  her  knees,  holding  her  arms 
still  around  the  stranger  of  only  a  few  hours  before,  now 
dearer  and  more  precious  to  her  than  any  sister  could  ever 
have  been.  At  length  she  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to 
thrust  one  hand  into  the  bosom  of  her  dress,  take  out  the 
note,  and  hold  it  out  to  Joe,  with  the  pleading  words  :' 

"  Read !  read !  do  read  and  tell  me  what  he  has  done  !" 

"Why,  you  dear  girl,  how  agitated  you  are!"  said  Jo- 
sephine, stooping  down  and  kissing  her  on  the  forehead. 
"This  letter  for  me,  and  from  him?  Stop — answer  me  one 
question — has  he  gone  ?" 

"  He  has  gone  !"  spoke  the  young  girl,  almost  with,  a  gasp. 

A  veritable  cry  of  joy  escaped  Joe  Harris.  Often  de- 
feated and  not  seldom  misunderstood,  she  knew  then  that  she 
had  succeeded  in  the  boldest  and  most  erratic  act  of  her  life  ; 
and  that  moment  of  triumph  was  worth  years  of  ordinary 
existence. 

"  He  has  gone  !  you  are  saved  !  Don't  cry  or  tremble,  pet, 
for  it  is  all  right — I  know  it !  See  here*!"  and  she  tore  open 
the  note  with  such  an  expression  of  gladness  as  some  heroine 
of  old  may  have  vented  when  she  rushed  in  with  her  father's 
or  her  husband's  pardon,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  axe 
was  depending  above  his  head. 

Josephine  Harris's  eyes  had  run  rapidly  over  the  brief  note. 
She  extended  it  to  Mary : 

11  See  !  it  is  as  I  told  you  !" 

Mary  Crawford  clutched  the  note  in  her  hand,  staggered  to 
her  feet,  and  attempted  to  read.  But  she  only  saw  a  few 
words — heart   and   brain   had    been   overtasked — and   with 


436  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

a  low  moaning  cry  she  sunk  fainting  into  the  arms  of  Jo 
sephine. 

The  hurrying  feet  of  little  Susy  responsive  to  Joe's  sudden 
call — the  glass  of  cool  water  from  the  well  that  in  a  moment 
touched  Mary  Crawford's  lips  and  sparkled  on  her  forehead — 
these  were  the  things  of  a  moment.  That  which  had  a 
memory  in  it,  worthy  to  endure  for  all  time,  was  the  return 
of  recollection  to  the  young  girl,  and  the  fervency  with  which 
vhe  threw  herself  again  into  Josephine's  arms,  embracing  her 
almost  painfully,  and  saying,  over  and  over  again  : 

"  Oh,  you  dear  good  friend  !  God  bless  you  !  God  bless 
you !" 

Mary  Crawford  was  back  at  home  again  within  the  hour, 
happier  than  she  had  been  for  many  a  long  day,  and  after  a 
few  moments  more  of  earnest  conversation  with  Josephine, 
too  sacred  for  revelation.  It  maybe  believed  that  she  who 
had  gone  so  far  for  the  young  girl's  happiness  and  that  of 
her  "  brother  "  Richard,  would  not  falter  now  in  finishing  her 
task ;  and  the  truth  is  that  had  she  had  no  benevolence  ex- 
tending further,  she  had  the  fox-hunter's  anxiety  to  be  "in  at 
the  death,"  and  the  feminine  fancy  for  her  own  peculiar 
"reward,"  which  could  only  be  obtained  at  the  end  of  the 
course. 

Instructed  by  the  diplomatic  Joe  on  one  particular  point, 
the  moment  she  reached  her  own  house  again  Mary  Crawford 
despatched  a  messenger  to  inform  Domine  Rodgers  that  his 
services  would  not  be  needed  that  evening  for  the  marriage, 
as  Colonel  Crawford  had  been  called  to  Albany  by  telegraph, 
at  a  moment's  notice,  on  government  business.  It  seemed 
idle  to  attempt,  in  her  father's  senile  and  helpless  condition, 
to  make  him  acquainted  with  the  real  circumstances  of  the 
case  ;  and  so  Joe's  suggestion  was  carried  much  further  than 
she  had  intended,  and  the  old  man  and  all  the  household  were 
led  to  the  same  understanding,  with  the  additional  belief  that 
the  Colonel  had  left  so  suddenly  as  only  to  make  Mary  his 
confidant,  after  the  arrival  of  a  special  (imaginary)  messenger 
from  the  telegraph-office  at  Utica. 

Old  John  Crawford  seemed  a  little  disappointed,  and  weary 
of  waiting  for  the  final  arrangement  of  his  family  affairs ; 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  437 

but  he  had  not  life  enough  left  in  him  to  make  his  disappoint- 
ment very  painful,  and  Mary,  inspired  with  a  new  hope  which 
pave  her  energy  to  brave  almost  anything,  trusted  to  something 
in  a  coming  day  which  might  enable  her  to  remove  that  dis- 
appointment entirely.  So  that  somewhat  eventful  day  closet  I 
upon  the  Crawford  mansion  and  upon  the  humbler  one  near 
it  which  had  that  day  exercised  so  powerful  an  influence  on 
the  fortunes  of  its  inmates. 

Here  again  it  is  necessary  to  pass  on  with  unamiable  if  not 
inexcusable  rapidity,  omitting  any  details  of  the  time  remain- 
ing of  Josephine  Harris's  visit  at  West  Falls.  When  the 
city  girl  went  up  to  that  place,  she  had  considered  her  stay 
there  likely  to  extend  to  at  least  a  week  and  possibly  to  twice 
that  period.  But  her  errand  had  been  done  so  much  sooner 
than  she  could  have  expected,  and  she  was  so  unwilling  to 
communicate  with  Kichard  in  any  other  way  than  personally, 
with  reference  to  affairs  at  West  Falls  and  her  own  action  in 
the  matter, — that  within  an  hour  after  Mary  Crawford  had 
left  the  house  the  second  time,  her  visit  was  really  over. 
That  is,  the  heart  in  her  visit  was  gone.  The  shade  and  the 
quiet  might  be  very  pretty  and  pleasant,  and  precisely  what 
she  could  have  enjoyed  for  a  month  under  other  circumstances ; 
but  her  restless  brain  was  too  busy  to  make  rest  possible 
until  all  was  done.  Aunt  Betsey's  cares  and  little  Susan's 
attentions,  joined  with  the  society  of  the  calf,  the  pigs  and  the 
chickens  (with  occasional  excursions  into  the  cherry  trees) 
enabled  her  to  wear  through  Monday.  But  every  glance  that 
she  caught  of  the  big  house  on  the  hill,  reminded  her  that 
Richard  Crawford  was  lying  (as  she  supposed)  a  discouraged 
invalid,  while  she  had  a  draught  of  hope  at  her  command 
that  might  be  put  to  his  pale  lips  and  furnish  him  with  new 
life. 

With  the  daybreak  of  Tuesday  the  robins  woke  her,  and  she 
slept  no  more.  Anxiety  and  restlessness  had  conquered,  and 
not  even  the  expectation  of  receiving  a  letter  from  Tom  Leslie 
that  day  (how  enraged  that  gentleman  might  have  been,  had 
he  only  known  it !)  could  detain  her  longer.  Aunt  Betsey 
plead  and  Susan  pouted  and  scolded  ;  but  the  laws  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians  were  not  more  irrevocable  than  some  of 


4o5  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

Miss  Josey's  notions  ;  and  promising  to  come  again  if  pos- 
sible before  the  summer  was  over,  and  exacting  a  promise 
from  Susy  to  forward  to  her  address  in  New  York  any  letters 
that  might  come  for  her  from  her  cousin  at  Niagara  (sly- 
boots !) — she  flitted  away.  The  morning  stage  from  West 
Falls  took  her  down  to  Utica;  and  the  train  at  the  Thirty- 
second  Street  Station  at  New  York,  that  evening,  landed  her 
at  home  again,  dustier  even  than  when  she  went  North,  and 
this  time  alone,  except  as  pleasant  thoughts  may  have  been 
her  companions.  Long  before  midnight  she  burst  in  upon 
good  Mrs.  Harris,  with  a  fearful  jangling  of  carriage-steps 
and  ringing  of  door-bells,  leading  that  lady  to  believe,  at  first, 
that  she  had  been  brought  home  in  a  sick  or  dying  condition. 
But  the  maternal  embrace  was  warm,  those  red  lips  had  never 
forgotten  the  kiss  of  dear  love  and  confidence  upon  those  that 
had  first  caressed  her  when  she  came  into  the  world  ;  and  odd, 
wild,  erratic  Joe  had  a  habit  which  many  people  with  more 
opportunities  have  managed  to  escape — that  of  being  always 
welcome. 

It  was  of  course  too  late,  that  night,  for  any  conference 
with  Richard  Crawford.  But  the  next  morning,  before  nine 
o'clock,  his  house  was  treated  to  a  repetition  of  the  same 
ringing  of  bells  that  had  sounded  in  her  own  the  night  before, 
and  Joe,  all  breathless  eagerness  (another  one  of  the  bad 
habits  of  her  childhood,  that  she  had  never  been  able  to  over- 
come) stood  talking  in  the  hall  with  the  domestic  who  had 
admitted  her.  Much  good  her  hurry  had  done  !  Much  good 
was  it  for  her  to  fly  hither  and  yon,  transacting  business  for 
invalids!  Some  persons  run  away  from  happiness — do  they 
not  ? — as  others  try  to  escape  from  known  misery  !  Richard 
Crawford  and  his  companions  were  then  two  hours  up  the 
Hudson,  on  their  way  to  Niagara !  Crawford  was  going 
to  pass  West  Falls,  within  a  few  hours,  so  near  it  and  yet 
ignorant  of  all  that  had  occurred  ! 

To  say  that  Joe  Harris  raved  at  this  announcement,  might 
be  too  strong  a  word.  But  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  her 
springy  foot  (Joe  had  not  the  proverbially  "  little"  one  of  the 
novelists,  but  a  very  well-shaped  pedal  of  the  Arab  pattern, 
under  the  sole  of  which  water  could  have  run  with  as  much 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  439 

freedom  as  under  the  Starucca  Viaduct  or  the  High  Bridge), 
patted  the  hall  floor  with  vexation,  impatience  and  "bothera- 
tion." There  was  not  much  use  in  blurting  out  her  vexation 
before  a  servant,  but  she  did  say : 

"  Confound  jour  picture,  Pick  Crawford  I  Why  did  you 
not  let  me  know  that  you  were  going  away  V  "Which  was 
not  very  elegant  or  very  reasonable,  especially  as  wild  Josey 
had  for  certain  well-known  reasons  studiously  kept  away  from 
the  house  for  some  days  before  leaving  for  the  North,  and  still 
more  especially  because  she  had  so  concealed  the  direction  of 
her  own  journey  that  Dick  Crawford  could  not  have  commu- 
nicated with  her  if  he  had  tried  never  so  earnestly. 

Then  and  thereupon  Joe  Harris  turned  about  indignantly 
and  went  to  the  door.  Then  she  changed  her  mind,  went  into 
the  deserted  parlor,  opened  the  piano  and  banged  away  upon 
it  for  a  few  minutes  as  if  she  was  taking  the  physical  revenge 
of  a  drubbing,  on  the  whole  Crawford  family.  If  Dick  Craw- 
ford could  have  heard  that  performance,  he  would  have  gone 
mad  to  a  certainty  !  Then  she  flung  to  the  piano  with  a  slam 
(forgive  her,  Steinway  ! — it  was  not  your  piano  that  she  was 
abusing,  but  an  imaginary  owner)  and  flung  herself  out  of  the 
house  so  precipitately  that  Bridget  only  heard  the  violent  shut- 
ting of  two  doors  and  knew  nothing  more. 

By  the  time  she  had  reached  her  own  house  again,  the  young 
girl  was  somewhat  calmer  and  a  great  deal  more  reasonable. 
The  fault  was  not  that  of  Richard  Crawford,  after  all ;  and 
God  bless  him  ! — she  was  heartily  glad  that  he  had  recovered 
sufficiently  to  be  able  to  leave  the  house  for  a  ride  of  four 
or  five  hundred  miles.  So  she  summoned  back  all  the  patient 
and  benevolent  elements  of  her  own  nature  (she  had  plenty 
of  them,  but  they  were  sometimes  like  badly-trained  troops, 
and  needed  a  recall), — sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Richard, 
giving  him  a  brief  account  of  what  had  occurred,  abusing  him 
playfully  for  going  off  without  informing  her  of  his  intention, 
and  ordering  him  to  West  Falls  immediately,  in  such  terms 
as  a  commander-in-chief  might  have  employed  towards  a  re- 
cruiting sergeant.  That  done,  and  the  letter  despatched,  slie 
felt  partially  relieved. 

But  what  a  fool  she  had  made  of  herself — she  thought — by 


440  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

leaving  West  Falls  so  soon  !  Neither  her  mother  nor  herself 
was  yet  ready  to  leave  for  Newport  (she  much  less  than  her 
mother,  until  certain  half-linished  arrangements,  in  which  Mr 
Tom  Leslie  bore  a  part,  were  more  satisfactorily  settled)  ;  the 
city  was  growing  dull  as  well  as  hot,  and  most  of  the  "people 
one  cares  for,"  flitting  to  one  or  another  of  the  sea-shore  or 
mountain  resorts ;  and  there  were  the  pigs  and  chickens  at 
Aunt  Betsey's  all  lying  neglected.  Joe  Harris  was  nearer 
to  being  ennuyee — absolutely  bored,  for  the  next  hour,  than 
.she  had  before  been  for  a  twelvemonth 

There  is  an  old  adage  that  some  of  us  may  have  read  in  the 
primer  (or  was  it  the  hymn-book  ?)  that  "  Satan  finds  some 
mischief  still  for  idle  hands  to  do."  Josephine's  late  life  had 
been  sufficiently  exciting  to  make  her  undeniably  restless ;  and 
it  was  while  ruminating  upon  the  misery  of  being  too  quietly 
happy,  that  she  remembered  her  rencontre  with  Emily  Owen, 
at  Wallack's,  the  magnificently  bearish  manner  in  which  Judge 
Owen  had  lugged  his  daughter  out  from  the  theatre,  and  the 
promise  she  had  made  the  mortified  and  abashed  girl  that  she 
would  run  up  and  call  upon  her  some  day.  Why  not  now  ? 
Xot  much  sooner  thought  of  than  done ;  and  in  less  than  an 
hour  thereafter  she  was  ringing  at  the  door  of  Judge  Owen's 
house  near  the  Harlem  River,  having  endured  the  smashing  of 
toes  and  disorder  of  dresses  incident  to  a  ride  by  car  on  a  hot 
afternoon  when  half  the  city  was  rushing  to  the  Central  Park 
and  the  cool  places  over  in  Westchester. 

She  had  better  fortune,  here,  than  she  had  experienced  at 
the  Crawfords'.  Emily  was  at  home,  sewing  by  the  open 
window  in  her  little  chamber,  while  by  the  other  window  of 
the  same  room  showed  the  tall  figure  and  placid  face  of 
Aunt  Martha.  The  meeting  between  the  two  school-mates 
was  very  warm  and  cordial,  and  accompanied  by  those  em- 
braces which,  when  they  occur  between  two  young  girls  and 
an  unfortunate  masculine  friend  happens  to  be  an  observer, 
are  so  likely  to  destroy  his  equanimity  for  a  long  period. 
Emily's  cheek  reddened  a  little,  to  be  sure,  with  shame  at  re- 
membering where  she  had  last  met  her  visitor;  but  perhaps 
this  evidence  of  sensibility  broke  down  all  barriers  between 
the  two,  much  easier  than  they  could  have  been  removed 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  441 

under  other  circumstances.  Josephine  Harris  had  accident- 
ally become  aware  of  the  one  secret  of  Emily's  life,  and  so 
long  as  warm  friendship  existed  this  fact  could  not  be  other- 
wise than  a  tie,  just  as  it  could  not  fail  to  be  a  cause  for 
avoidance  if  the  two  hearts  once  became  separated.  Aunt 
Martha,  something  of  an  oddity  among  women,  and  Joe 
Harris,  an  oddity  without  any  qualification,  were  pleased 
with  each  other  at  once ;  and  a  pleasant  chat  sprung  up  in 
the  little  room,  which  lasted  until  Aunt  Martha  thought  it 
proper  to  make  an  excuse  for  absence  and  leave  the  young 
girls  alone  together. 

It  would  have  been  something  more  or  less  than  natural,  if 
within  a  minute  afterwards  the  conversation  of  the  two  had 
not  been  running  upon  the  topic  of  which  both  had  been  think- 
ing, but  of  which  neither  would  speak  before  the  third  person. 
Josephine  broke  into  the  theme  at  once: 

''Who  was  he?" 

"Who  was  whoV1  and  the  face  of  pretty  Emily  Owen  was 
red  enough  in  a  moment  to  show  that  she  knew  who  was  in- 
tended. 

"Oh,  you  know  that  I  saw  part  of  it,"  said  Joe.  "  I  want 
to  know  the  rest.  Who  was  the  young  man  from  whom  your 
father  took  you  away  ?  A  lover,  of  course,  or  he  would  not 
have  taken  the  trouble." 

"It  was— it  was— Frank— Mr.  Frank  Wallace,"  said  the 
young  girl,  the  color  on  her  face  by  no  means  diminishing. 

"Oh,  don't  blush  so,"  said  Josey.  "We  all  get  into  some 
such  scrape,  at  one  time  or  another — that  is,  so  many  of  us 
as  can  find  any  one  to  form  the  other  half  of  the  pair  of  scis- 
sors.     He  was  your  lover,  of  course  ?" 

"  You  are  a  strange  girl,  and  you  ask  such  odd  questions  !" 
said  Emily.  Then,  looking  into  the  face  of  Josephine,  and 
seeing  how  true  and  earnest,  in  spite  of  their  mischief,  were 
the  eyes  bent  upon  her,  she  added  :  "  But  I  do  remember  how 
good  and  kind  you  were  to  me  at  school,  and  I  will  tell  you 
all  about  it!" 

"That's  a  dear  !"  said  diplomatic  Josey,  and  only  casting 
down  her  eyes  a  little  and  blushing  occasionally,  Emily  Owen 
told    the   story  of  her   love   and    her   persecutions of  her 


44:2  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

father's  pride  and  prejudice — of  Aunt  Martha's  sympathy — of 
the  relations  borne  towards  the  family  by  the  young  printer 
and  Col.  Bancker — and  of  the  unpleasant  affairs  which  had 
already  occurred,  culminating  in  that  outrage  at  the  theatre, 
since  which  time  (not  many  days,  however,)  the  lovers  had 
had  no  meeting. 

"Why,  it  is  as  good  as  a  play  !"  said  Joe,  when  her  friend 
had  finished  her  relation,  and  thinking,  at  the  same  time,  how 
there  was  an  unaccountable  something  in  her  own  fortune  or 
character,  which  drew  her  into  acquaintance  with  so  much 
that  was  dramatic  in  the  lives  of  others. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  think  me  very  weak  and  silly,"  said 
Emily.     "  You  must  do  so,  unless — unless — " 

"  Oh,  I  understand  you  !"  said  Joe.  "You  mean  that  I 
must  think  your  love  silly,  unless  I  happen  to  be  in  love 
myself  ?" 

"Yes,  that  was  what  I  meant  to  say,"  answered  the  young 
girl. 

"  Oh,  make  yourself  easy  on  that  point !"  said  the  incar- 
nate mischief.  "  It  has  not  been  very  long  under  way,  but 
I  have  picked  up  &  fellow." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  !  Then  I  know  that  you  will  under- 
stand me  !"  answered  Emily. 

"  I  understand  you,  and  I  do  not  think  you  silly  at  all," 
said  her  mentor.  "  I  saw  the  young  man's  face  that  evening, 
and  I  fancy  that  he  is  decidedly  good-looking  That  is  some- 
thing. You  say  that  he  is  honest,  industrious  and  brave: 
that  is  a  good  deal  more.  Then  you  love  him,  and  that  is  of 
much  more  consequence  still.  Xever  marry  a  man  whom 
vou  cannot  love,  my  dear,  if  you  remain  an  old  maid  so 
long  that  they  date  from  your  birth  instead  of  the  Christian 
era." 

Emily  Owen  looked  up  for  an  instant,  to  see  how  old  this 
mentor  could  be,  who  talked  with  the  confidence  of  expe- 
rience and  the  gravity  of  fifty  (so  much  like  Aunt  Martha)  ; 
but  she  met  a  face  very  little  older  than  her  own,  and  she 
merely  said  : 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  think  that  I  am  right  !" 

"You  say  that  you  have  not  seen  him  since  that  evening 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  443 

at  Wallark's,"  said  Josephine.     "  Have  you  not  heard  from 
him  since  ?" 

" Yes,"  said  Emily,  "we—" 
"  Write  ?" 

"Yes,"  again  said  the  young  girl.  "I  hope  you  do  not 
think  that  is  wrong.  Frank  does  not  wish  to  come  here,  and 
I  do  not  wish  him  to  come  here,  possibly  to  be  abused  by  my 
father  ;  and  so — " 

"  I  wish  I  knew  him,"  said  Josephine,  who  by  this  time 
had  some  odd  idea  running  through  her  head.  "  What  is  he 
like  ?  No,  I  do  not  mean  how  he  looks,  for  you  know  that 
I  saw  him  for  a  moment;  but  what  is  his  disposition? 
Grave  or  gay  ?" 

"  Gay— very  gay,  I  should  think,"  replied  Emily. 
"You  go  to  theatres:   is  he  fond  of  theatrical  perform- 
ances ?" 

"  Very,"  answered  the  young  girl. 

"  So  far,  so  good,"  said  Josephine,  in  whose  mind  the 
thought,  whatever  it  was,  seemed  to  be  shaping  itself  with 
great  rapidity.  "  Now,  is  he  a  mimic  ?  Could  he  play  a 
part  if  he  should  attempt  it  ?" 

"  I  should  think  so,"  answered  Emily.  "  He  is  very  droll 
and  a  great  mimic— too  much  so,  I  sometimes  think.  But 
What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Why  this,"  said  Joe,  whose  plan  had  now  grown  to  its 
full  proportions— as  odd  and  reckless  a  plan  as  the  most  outre 
could  have  wished,  but  quite  consistent  with  her  own  sense 
of  benevolent  mischief.  She  had  not  quite  recovered  from 
the  influence  of  her  "amateur  detective"  exploit  for  the 
benefit  of  Richard  Crawford,  and  masquerades  seemed  to 
her,  for  the  time,  the  only  realities.  Conjoined  with  the 
memory  of  her  late  exploits  as  a  volunteer  detective,  was  a 
thought  of  the  very  effectual  manner  in  which  she  had  seen 
Tom  Leslie  disguise  himself  on  the  day  of  the  visit  to  the 
fortune-teller;  and  she  had  hit  upon  a  plan—nothing  more 
nor  leas— to  introduce  the  young  girl's  lover  into  that  house, 
under  her  own  protection,  and  in  such  a  disguise  that  not 
even  the  suspicious  eyes  of  Judge  Owen  could  know  that 
they  had  ever  looked  at  him  before  !  As  for  any  ultimate  good 
28 


444  SHOULD  ERST  B  A  P  8. 

to  flow  from  the  frolic — it  must  be  confessed  that  she  scarcely 
thought  of  it.  She  did  think  of  throwing  the  two  lovers 
together,  for  once  or  twice,  at  least,  and  of  playing  a  prank 
which  he  well  deserved,  upon  the  imperious  and  not-over- 
reasonable  Judge — that  was  all.  She  did  not  foresee  the 
real  results  which  were  to  follow  the  operation:  as  which  of 
us  ever  did,  when  we  began  a  frolic,  imagine  what  earnest 
that  frolic  might  become  before  it  was  concluded  ? 

"Why,  this  is  what  I  mean — a  plan  that  will  at  least  give 
you  an  occasional  sight  of  your  '  Frank,'  that  no  doubt  you 
think  more  of  than  a  Congressman  of  his,  and  wouldn't  lend 
it  to  anybody.  Scribble  him  a  little  note  at  once,  tell  him 
who  I  am  and  what  I  am  going  to  do.  Put  in  this  card  of 
mine,  so  that  he  can  know  where  to  find  me.  Then  tell  him 
to  get  a  soldier's  uniform — (say  a  Captain's)  a  crutch,  a  cane, 
and  a  green  patch  for  one  eye,  and  come  to  my  house  to- 
morrow afternoon.  No — if  he  only  gets  the  crutch  and  the 
cane,  I  will  make  the  patch  for  his  eye,  to-night.  You  are 
not  going  out  anywhere  to-morrow  evening  ?" 

"  Xo,*'  answered  the  young  girl,  a  little  bewildered  by  such 
an  arrangement. 

"  Then  I  will  bring  him  up  to-morrow  evening,  equipped 
in  that  manner,  and  introduce  him  as  my  cousin,  Captain — 
Captain — Captain — what  shall  I  call  him  ? — Captain  Robert 
Slivers — that  will  be  a  good  name  enough — of  the  Sickles 
Brigade,  wounded  in  one  of  the  late  battles  and  home  on  fur- 
lough.    Don't  you  think  that  will  do,  dear  ?" 

"  I  should  like  it,  of  all  things  in  the  world,"  said  Emily 
Owen,  "  if  I  was  only  sure  that  they  would  not  know  him. 
But  no — to-morrow  evening  will  not  do  !  I  remember  hear- 
ing that  hateful  Colonel  Bancker  tell  Pa  that  he  was  coming 
again  to-morrow  evening." 

"  Well,  all  that  is  none  the  worse,"  said  the  schemer.  "  If 
the  gallant  Colonel  is  as  old  as  you  think,  his  eyes  cannot  be 
any  sharper  than  other  people's  ;  and  if  your  Frank  Wallace 
is  half  smart  enough  to  deserve  such  a  pretty  girl  as  you,  he 
can  manufacture  some  war  stories  that  will  do  the  Colonel 
good." 

u  But  I  am  afraid — "  again  began  Emily. 


S  II  O  U  L  D  E  R  -  S  T  R  A  P  S.  445 

"Afraid  of  your  shadow  !"  said  the  plotter.  "There,  run 
away  and  do  as  1  tell  you,  and  mind  that  your  note  goes  this 
afternoon  and  that  you  do  not  forget  to  put  in  my  card. 
Stop  !  you  are  not  afraid  to  trust  me  with  him,  are  you  ?" 

M  Oh,  Josephine,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  ask  such  a 
question  !"  replied  Emily  ;  and  having  given  that  assurance, 
and  being  really  carried  off  her  feet  by  the  plausible  mischief 
of  her  friend,  she  set  about  performing  her  part  of  the  arrange- 
ment, though  not  without  some  question  how  it  would  all  end, 
and  whether  the  frolic  might  not  eventually  give  excuse  for 
additional  severity  on  the  part  of  Judge  Owen. 

It  was  agreed  between  the  young  girls,  before  they  parted, 
that  the  arrival  should  not  take  place  until  evening,  when 
there  would  be  the  advantage  of  gas-light  in  concealing  the 
personality  of  the  masquerader, — and  that  Aunt  Martha,  who 
had  already  proved  herself  too  firm  and  consistent  a  friend  to 
her  niece,  to  be  played  falsely  with  in  the  matter,  should  be 
made  acquainted  with  the  whole  arrangement,  even  at  the 
risk  of  the  disapprobation  that  she  was  almost  certain  to 
express  against  a  proceeding  that  would  certainly  be  better 
suited  to  the  stage  than  the  drawing-room. 

Having  set  this  mischief  on  foot  and  shaken  off  the  ennui 
which  had  oppressed  her  in  the  morning,  Josephine  Harris 
left  the  house  where  she  had  paid  so  remarkable  a  first  visit, 
and  returned  to  her  own,  to  astonish  her  mother  with  the 
knowledge  of  an  intended  prank  somewhat  more  reckless  and 
outrageous  than  any  upon  which  she  had  before  ventured. 


446  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Five  Minutes  with  the  Moonlight — TnE  Last  Scene  at 
Judge  Owen's — Capt.  Slivers,  of  the  Sickles  Brigade — 
Two  Rivals  Disguised,  and  the  Result  of  their  Ren- 
contre. 

There  was  no  terrible  portent  in  the  air,  hanging  over  the 
city  of  New  York  on  that  Thursday  evening  the  Tenth  of  July, 
to  which  allusion  has  before  been  made  as  the  same  on  which 
Richard  Crawford  and  his  companions  reached  Niagara,  On 
the  contrary,  as  some  of  the  summer  tourists  may  remember, 
that  evening  was  remarkably  and  even  wondrously  beautiful. 
Not  a  clearer  full  moon  ever  rose  than  that  which  beamed 
over  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Northern  States  that  night ; 
and  those,  especially,  who  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  that 
moon  rise  over  the  brow  of  Eagle  Cliff  at  the  Franconia 
Notch  of  the  White  Mountains,  standing  on  the  plateau  in 
front  of  the  Profile  House  and  seeing  the  disk  of  glittering 
silver  heaving  slowly  up  beyond  the  crest,  with  the  great 
trees  on  the  summits  defined  against  it  so  sharply,  with  the 
dark  mountain  brows  frowning  and  the  upturned  human  faces 
radiant  in  the  silver  light,  and  with  every  aspect  and  influence 
of  the  scene  something  wildly  and  weirdly  beautiful — those 
who  enjoyed  that  privilege  will  not  be  likely  soon  to  lose  the 
memory  of  one  of  the  loveliest  nights  that  ever  dropped 
down  out  of  heaven.  How  many  souls,  in  one  place  and 
another,  and  under  influences  akin  to  those  we  have  named, 
may  have  bowed  down  that  night  in  worship  before  denied 
to  the  Almighty  Hand  that,  not  content  with  making  a  world 
instinct  with  life  and  usefulness,  endowed  it  with  such  mar- 
vellous beauty  !  And  how  many  young  hearts,  before  that 
hour  partial  strangers  to  each  other  or  divided  by  pru- 
dence or  by  ignorance,  standing  under  that  silver  sheen  may 
have  acknowledged  the  influence  of  the  time,  melted  into 
tenderness,  and  flowed  together  to  be  no  more  separated  for- 
ever ! 

Moonlight  is  an  enchanter  as  well  as  a  beautifier,  and  the 


SHOULDER-STRAPS,  447 

old  fancy  of  partial  madness  when  the  moon  was  at  the  full 
(from  which  the  word  ''lunacy")  was  not  altogether  unwar- 
ranted by  reality.  At  sea,  in  the  tropics,  a  night  on  deck 
under  the  broad  full  moon  stiffens  and  entirely  maddens,  if  it 
does  not  kill ;  here  the  madness  is  only  partial  and  it  has  a 
general  reference  to  mischief  and  the  opposite  sex;  but  the 
influence  is  the  same,  under  different  degrees  of  development. 
On  how  many  lands  and  waters  is  such  a  broad  full  moon 
shining,  and  what  varied  scenes  it  throws  into  nickering  light 
and  shadow — the  very  thought  being  a  part  of  the  permitted 
madness  of  the  time  !  Think  of  that  strange  variety  for  a 
moment.  Far  out  on  the  ocean  tired  sailors  throw  themselves 
under  the  lee  of  the  bulwarks  and  gaze  up  into  its  face,  while 
the  light  plays  fantastic  tricks  among  the  masts  and  cordage. 
Out  of  pleasant  groves  in  the  country  light-robed  figures  are 
flitting,  and  under  that  marvellous  sheen  words  are  spoken 
that  would  long  have  been  frightened  back  in  the  brighter 
glare  of  day — words  that  may  make  the  happiness  or  misery 
of  a  lifetime.  Ringing  laughter  breaks  from  merry  groups 
that  glance  in  and  out  under  the  shade-trees  and  the  vine- 
arbors  that  surround  stately  old  mansions  in  the  valleys  of 
wheat  and  corn.  Rough  shouts  and  loud  peals  of  laughter 
break  from  the  rough  throats  of  the  raccoon  and  opossum 
hunters  in  the  wild  back-woods.  A  broken-hearted  woman 
sits  at  her  chamber-window  and  gazes  out  into  the  weird 
atmosphere,  thinking  of  falsehood  and  sorrow  and  the  incon- 
stancy of  one  year.  Half  in  the  sheen  and  half  in  the  shadow 
lies  a  little  grave,  its  light  and  shade  fit  type  of  the  love  and 
grief  of  two  who  sit  on  a  vine-covered  porch  and  think  of  the 
day  when  they  buried  the  dear  little  sleeper.  In  the  dark 
passes  of  the  Apennines  lurks  a  bandit,  poniard  in  hand, 
ready  to  spring  on  the  unwary  traveller  as  he  emerges  from 
the  shadow.  On  the  gardens  and  jalousies  of  fair  Granada 
falls  the  silver  beam,  and  guitars  tinkle  and  white  arms  wave 
in  recognition.  Under  the  gloom  of  the  palazzo  of  St.  Mark, 
at  Venice,  a  gondola  is  shooting,  while  the  boatman  hums  a 
drowsy  air  and  the  lover  anxiously  watches  for  the  waving 
of  the  white  scarf  of  his  mistress.  Cascades  leap  down  the 
mountain  gorges,  unheard  of  mortal  ear  and  unseen  by  mortal 


448  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

eye.  but  scattering  their  diamond  drops  in  air  as  a  full  libation 
to  the  glory  of  night.  Far  away  at  sea,  on  a  drifting  raft,  a 
sailor  eats  his  last  biscuit  and  smiles  sorrowfully  back  to  the 
placid  face  that  will  look  down  next  night  upon  his  corpse  ! 

All  which  may  have  very  little,  to  do  with  this  story,  and 
yet  it  may  be  fully  warranted  by  the  occasion.  And  at  least 
it  is  justifiable  to  say  that  the  full  of  the  moon  may  have  made 
Joe  Harris  madder  than  usual  and  readier  than  ever  to  in- 
dulge in  frolics  of  the  most  reprehensible  character.  What 
we  began  to  indicate,  especially,  was  that  no  portent  loomed 
in  the  heavens  above  the  doomed  city  or  even  above  the 
house  of  Judge  Owen,  and  that  still  an  earthquake  was  mut- 
tering and  rumbling  under  it,  destined  to  tumble  it  into  the 
most  latal  confusion. 

At  about  half-past  eight  that  evening,  a  ring  at  the  door 
announced  visitors.  Judge  Owen  had  not  yet  returned,  but 
all  the  other  members  of  the  family,  and  one  who  expected  to 
become  a  member  of  the  family — of  course,  Colonel  John 
Boadley  Bancker, — were  sitting  at  that  moment  in  the  front 
parlor.  For  some  reason  or  other,  not  necessary  to  be  here 
explained,  Emily  went  herself  to  the  door  and  admitted  the 
visitors.  They  proved  to  be  Miss  Josephine  Harris,  who  had 
just  alighted  from  a  carriage  at  the  door,  and  a  male  com- 
panion in  uniform.  Some  time  elapsed  before  the  military 
gentleman,  who  was  introduced  to  the  young  host* 
"  Captain  Robert  Slivers,"  managed  to  get  over  the  door-ste£j 
so  very  lame  was  he.  But  he  managed  to  spare  a  hand  for 
one  moment  from  one  of  his  crutches,  the  instant  after;  for 
Emily,  who  was  half  frightened  out  of  her  wits  and  half  in- 
clined to  burst  into  uncontrollable  laughter,  felt  a  "pinch"  on 
her  arm  which  nearly  made  her  scream  aloud. 

The  military  gentleman  bobbed  along  into  the  room  after 
them,  and  was  introduced  to  the  others  there  assembled. 
One  of  the  burners  of  the  chandelier  only  had  been  lit,  but  it 
quite  sufficed  to  reveal  an  extraordinary  figure.  Captain 
Robert  Slivers  seemed  to  be  about  fifty  to  fifty-five,  to  judge 
by  his  gray  hair  and  moustache  ;  but  any  idea  of  the  precise 
looks  of  his  face  was  rendered  impossible,  by  an  immense 
green  patch  which  concealed  not  only  the  right  eye,  but  all 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  449 

that  side  of  the  nose  and  the  temple,  while  the  string  running 
around  his  forehead  took  away  any  expression  from  that  im- 
portant part  of  the  human  countenance,  and  an  oblong  strip 
of  black  court-plaster  extended  diagonally  from  the  left  eye 
nearly  to  the  corner  of  the  mouth,  creating  an  impression  of 
very  severe  tattooing.  A  pair  of  green  spectacles  were 
mounted  on  the  bridge  of  the  nose,  and  the  left  glass  did  duty 
over  the  corresponding  eye,  while  the  other  was  unseen  as 
relieved  against  the  shade.  So  much  for  the  facial  appear- 
ance and  adornments  of  this  hero,  and  his  other  claims  to 
notice  were  not  less  extraordinary.  Sartorially,  he  wore  an 
undress  military  cap,  with  the  "TJ.  S."  on  the  front,  and  a 
dingy  blue  uniform  with  the  shoulder-straps  of  a  Captain  of 
infantry.  Physically  he  seemed  nearly  as  much  out  of  order 
as  facially.  He  carried  a  heavy  cane  in  his  right  hand,  and 
the  right  foot  was  enclosed  in  a  sort  of  moccasin  or  spatterdash 
which  might  have  belonged  to  one  of  the  conductors  on  an 
avenue  railroad,  for  use  in  very  severe  weather.  In  shoe- 
makers' measurement  this  foot-gear  would  probably  have  been 
rated  about  number  sixteen.  Under  the  left  arm,  which  was 
swathed  below  the  elbow,  he  carried  a  crutch,  and  though  the 
foot  on  that  side  seemed  to  be  uninjured,  the  leg  had  not 
escaped  so  fortunately.  It  was  stiffened  and  drawn  up  so 
that  the  toe  merely  touched  the  ground  and  the  principal  de- 
pendence was  made  upon  the  crutch.  According  to  this  ar- 
rangement, the  left  leg  limped  and  the  right  foot  shuffled,  and 
the  style  of  locomotion  may  be  imagined. 

But  for  the  "  pinch,"  which  was  a  little  characteristic,  Emily 
Owen  might  have  had  grave  doubts,  even  after  the  warning  of 
the  day  before,  whether  this  could  be  the  sprightly  young 
man  whom  she  had  known  so  well;  and  the  very  mother 
who  bore  him,  if  she  could  have  seen  him  in  that  situation,  would 
have  been  almost  as  excusable  for  not  recognizing  her  off- 
spring, as  that  traditional  matron  who  defeated  all  the  theo- 
ries about  "intuition"  by  not  recognizing  her  son  when 
"done  up  with  pepper  and  onions,  in  a  stew."1 

This  interesting  person  was  finally  ushered  into  the  parlor 
and  introduced  to  the  trio  sitting  there,  as  well  as  manoeuvered 
into  a  chair.     Aunt  Martha,  behind  the  curiam,  was  not  pre- 


450  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

vented  by  her  fright  at  the  possible  consequences,  from  nearly 
smothering  with  concealed  laughter  at  the  wonderful  meta- 
morphosis which  had  been  accomplished.  Mrs.  Owen,  a  weak 
woman  with  a  soft  heart,  was  dreadfully  affected  by  the 
"reality  of  war"  thus  brought  home  to  her,  and  uttered 
many  ejaculations  of  pity,  carefully  under  her  breath  for  fear 
the  "  poor  fellow  n  should  hear  her  and  be  paiued. 

Colonel  Bancker — there  is  no  use  disguising  the  fact — 
was  literally  horrified  at  the  spectacle.  A  miserable  old  beau, 
with  unlimited  vanity  and  a  desire  to  appear  everything  that 
other  people  admired,  but  without  any  other  positive  personal 
vices — he  was,  as  Frank  Wallace  had  always  believed,  an  in- 
carnate, unmitigated  poltroon — a  coward  of  the  first  water. 
He  never  had  fought  for  anything,  with  hand  or  weapon — he 
never  intended  to  fight  for  anything — he  never  could  fight  for 
anything.  He  could  not  bear  to  think  of  being  hurt  himself, 
and  he  was  pained  beyond  measure  at  the  thought  of  seeing 
any  one  else  injured  or  in  suffering.  One  hour  of  the  battle- 
field, with  its  sights  and  sounds  of  horror,  would  have  killed 
him  without  any  aid  from  sword  or  bullet.  He  could  have 
been  robbed  in  a  dark  street  by  a  boy  of  ten  years,  who  pre- 
sented a  knife  or  a  pistol ;  and  in  any  time  of  danger  to  him- 
self or  others  (as  may  have  been  indicated  by  the  adventure 
of  the  carriage  before  recorded)  he  could  be  of  no  more  use 
than  a  baby  in  arms.  Such  men  are  not  very  common,  but 
they  do  exist ;  and  under  any  ordinary  circumstances,  as  they 
cannot  help  the  infirmities  with  which  they  are  born,  they 
should  be  pitied  and  not  ridiculed.  It  is  only  when  they  at- 
tempt to  disguise  themselves  in  the  characters  of  bolder  and 
better  men,  that  they  deserve  lashing  without  mercy. 

Colonel  Bancker  had  never  had  the  least  intention  of  going 
to  the  war,  nor  had  he  ever  connected  himself,  except  in  the 
most  vague  description  of  talk,  with  any  organization.  He 
had  never  come  nearer  to  a  commission  than  to  think  about 
one — that  is,  think  that  he  did  not  want  one.  He  saw  hun- 
dreds of  others  wearing  uniforms  and  the  insignia  of  rank 
without  any  intention  of  fighting,  and  thought  that  he  could 
do  as  they  did,  sport  borrowed  plumes  without  too  much  en- 
quiry being  made  into  the  source  whence  they  were  derived, 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  451 

and  throw  them  off  when  he  pleased,  under  any  excuse  which 
he  might  choose  to  invent — sickness,  business  engagements, 
or  dissatisfaction  with  the  mode  in  which  the  war  was  being 
conducted. 

With  the  before-named  dislike  to  being  pained,  Colonel 
Baneker  had  so  far  avoided  all  the  painful  sights  of  the  war. 
Tie  had  not  visited  the  wounded  at  the  Park  Barracks  or  in 
any  of  the  hospitals— he  had  managed  to  see  none  of  the 
maimed  living  and  none  of  the  glorious  dead— he  had  even 
escaped  the  hungry  wives  of  the  soldiers,  clamoring  for  their 
husbands'  pay  and  the  means  to  buy  bread,  along  the  cross- 
walks of  the  Park  and  at  the  entrances  of  the  City  Hall.  So 
far  he  had  escaped  easily  from  what  he  most  dreaded. 

But  within  the  last  day  or  two  a  terrible  disquiet  had  sprung 
up.  The  army  was  to  be  reinforced  and  a  stringent  conscrip- 
tion was  talked  of.  Among  the  unpleasant  rumors  in  circu- 
lation, was  one  that  the  Provost-Marshals  were  to  be  directed 
to  arrest  every  man  in  officer's  uniform  found  in  the  streets, 
and  if  he  could  exhibit  no  commission,  force  him  to  imme- 
diate service  in  the  ranks  !  Here  was  a  dilemma— a  dilemma 
none  the  less  for  having  two  well-defined  horns.  His  uniform 
was  becoming  dangerous,  but  how  give  it  up  ?  He  was  de- 
termined to  win  Emily  Owen,  and  he  had  discovered  that 
one  of  his  strongest  claims  to  the  favor  of  her  pig-headed 
father  lay  in  the  wearing  of  that  very  uniform  ami  pretending 
to  be  a  soldier.  To  give  it  up  was  to  acknowledge  that  he 
had  no  intention  of  joining  the  army,  and  perhaps  to  lose  all. 
Xo—  he  must  stick  to  those  dangerous  insignia  of  war,  at 

least  until  he  had  accomplished  his  grand  purpose,  and  then . 

But  they  made  him  uncomfortable — very  uncomfortable. 

It  was  under  such  circumstances  that  Captain  Robert 
Slivers,  of  the  Sickles  Brigade,  came  under  his  notice  that 
evening,  and  he  was  horrified  to  see  what  wrecks  war  really 
made  of  men.  One  eye  gone— a  face  cut  to  pieces— crippled 
in  one  leg,  one  arm  and  one  foot— good  heavens  !  For  the 
moment  the  fright  of  such  a  spectacle  almost  overcame  every 
«»i her  consideration,  and  Emily  Owen  and  all  her  material 
charms  became  secondary  to  the  thought  of  being  placed  be- 
yond the  danger  of  becoming  a  thing  like  that! 


io'2  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

To  add  to  the  Colonel's  horror,  Captain  Slivers  seemed  to 
take  a  decided  fancy  to  him,  and  edged  along  his  chair,  the 
best  he  could  do  in  his  crippled  condition,  until  he  had  brought 
it  into  very  close  juxtaposition  to  that  of  the  Colonel  ;  while 
the  four  ladies,  conversing  together,  formed  a  circle  of  their 
own  a  little  in  the  background.  It  may  be  said,  here,  that 
Frank  "Wallace,  even  through  his  one  green  spectaele-gh 
had  seen  and  recognized  the  disgust  and  terror  on  the  face 
of  the  Colonel,  and  that  he  had  determined  to  dose  him 
thoroughly  with  such  flippant  horrors  as  his  fertile  imagina- 
tion could  readily  manufacture  for  the  occasion,  but  such  as 
no  battle-field  on  earth  Las  ever  had  much  chance  of  wit- 
nessing. 

Near  as  they  had  been  brought  together,  and  inviting  as 
was  the  chance  for  conversation  between  two  members  of 
the  same  profession,  the  gallant  Colonel  did  not  seem  disposed 
to  enter  upon  it  with  so  fearful  an  object  as  the  Captain.  The 
latter  was  obliged  to  commence  the  attack,  after  all. 

'•  Very  glad  to  meet  a  brother  in  arms.''  said  the  pseudo- 
Captain,  in  an  assumed  bass,  taking  up  his  cane  and  giving  a 
slight  punch  to  the  Colonel,  who  seemed  pre-occupied. 

"  Oh  !  ah  !  yes,  very  glad,  to  be  sure,"  answered  the  Colonel, 
who  scarcely  knew  whether  he  was  talking  English  or  Choc- 
taw at  that  moment.  Then  partially  recovering  himself  and 
remembering  that  something  in  the  shape  of  conversation  must 
be  carried  on,  he  said :  "Very  pretty  girl  that — cousin  of  yours, 
didn't  they  say,  Captain  ?      What  is  her  name  ?" 

"Eh?"'  said  the  Captain.  "Oh,  my  cousin  yonder?  yes, 
Miss  Harris,  Miss  Joe  Harris — daughter  of  Mrs.  Harris."  It 
is  supposed  that  in  the  latter  name  he  alluded  to  a  somewhat 
doubtful  character  of  Charles  Dickens.  "Devil  of  a  girl, 
Colonel,  I  tell  you!" 

"Ah,  what  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"  Mean  ?  why  I  mean  that  when  I  came  home  two  or  three 
davs  ago,  she  seemed  rather  glad  than  otherwise  to  sec  that 
I  had  been  cut  up.  Stuck  her  finger  in  my  eye,  or  rather  in 
the  place  where  my  eye  had  been,  to  see  whether  they  had 
made  a  clean  operation  of  it,  and  nearly  broke  that  bone  of 
mv  left  arm  again,  trying  to  discover  whether  they  had  set  it 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  453 

entirely  straight.  Said  I  must  have  been  a  splendid  subject 
in  the  hospital.  Devil  of  a  girl — going  into  one  of  the  hos- 
pital- to  nurse,  directly.  Says  that  she  is  sever  happy  except 
she  has  a  few  broken  limbs,  and  smashed  heads,  and  gunshot 
wounds  through  the  body,  and  holes  made  by  Minie  bullets, 
under  her  especial  care." 

"Horrible!"  gasped  the  Colonel,  who  could  no  longer  sit 
silent  under  such  a  revelation  of  female  character 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  little  horrible,  but  a  fact,  though  1"  said  the 
Captain.  "Devil  of  a  girl,  I  tell  you!  I  believe  that  she 
would  just  as  lieve  see  my  head  amputated  as  not,  provided 
she  could  stand  by  and  witness  a  'beautiful  operation.'" 

"  I  say  this  is  dreadful  !"  said  the  Colonel. 

"Dreadful,  of  course,"  said  the  Captain.  "Still,  nothing 
when  you  once  get  used  to  it.  Plenty  of  women  just  like  her 
— all  female  devils,  though  they  manage  to  conceal  the  fact, 
sometimes,  until  they  get  a  man  under  their  thumbs,  espe- 
cially for  the  purpose  of  practising  on  him.  But  we  want 
women  who  have  some  nerve,  for  these  bloody  times.  Don't 
you  think  so,  Colonel  ?" 

"Yes — I  can't  say — that  is,  really  I  don't  know  !"  answered 
the  Colonel,  who  did  not  at  that  particular  moment,  know 
much  else  than  that  he  was  a  little  sick  at  the  stomach  and 
that  the  whole  world  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  hideous  mockery. 

"  Oh  yes,  fact !"  continued  the  Captain,  who  saw  the  white 
face  and  did  not  intend  that  it  should  regain  any  fresher  color, 
in  a  hurry.  "Bloody  times,  I  tell  you,  Colonel !  Make  me 
think,  sometimes,  when  the  dead  are  lying  in  heaps  around 
me  and  the  blood  running  like  small  brooks,  of  that  time  pro- 
phesied for  the  Valley  of  Armageddon,  when  the  blood  is  to 
run  deep  enough  to  reach  to  the  horse-bridles." 

"Captain,"  said  the  Colonel,  "really  I  would  rather — " 

"Rather  that  I  should  talk  about  the  present  war,  than  any- 
thing in  Scripture?  of  course — very  natural  and  quite  correct. 
Let  me  see — you  were  not  at  Fair  Oaks,  were  you  ?" 

"2so,"  said  the  Colonel,  emphatically. 

"  Xo,  I  suppose  not,"  continued  the  pseudo-Captain.  "Well, 
you  ought  to  have  been  there — that  is  all  !  Highest  old 
light  that  any  man  ever  heard  of.     When  we  went  into  battle 


45±  SHOT  L  PER-  STRAPS. 

we  had  not  had  a  wink  of  sleep  for  ten  nights,  but  I  tell  yon 
that  it  kept  us  wide  awake  while  it  lasted  !  In  the  middle  of 
the  day  the  air  was  so  thick  with  bullets  and  shells  that  it 
seemed  to  be  as  dark  as  twilight,  and  the  blood  at  one  time 
made  such  a  river  down  one  of  the  gulleys  that  dozens  of  men 
and  horses  were  drowned  in  it  I" 

"  Oh,  this  is  too  much  I"  gasped  the  Colonel,  who  thought 
of  getting  up  and  running  away,  anywhere  beyond  the  sound 
of  the  voice  of  this  sanguinary  madman. 

"  Too  much  ?  of  course  it  was  too  much  !"  echoed  the  ve- 
racious narrator.  "  But  who  could  help  it  ?  Couldn't  have  so 
many  dead  men,  you  know,  without  plenty  of  blood  !  At  one 
time  there  were  so  many  of  our  fellows  lying  in  a  long  win- 
row  near  the  top  of  the  hill,  that  when  the  rebels  made  an 
advance  we  punched  holes  through  the  wall  of  corpses  and 
used  them  for  breast-works." 

The  Colonel  made  an  effort  to  stagger  to  his  feet,  but  his 
nerves  were  too  terribly  unstrung  to  allow  him  that  escape. 
He  sunk  back  upon  his  chair  in  a  state  of  partial  syncope, 
aware  that  the  terrible  fellow  was  talking,  and  that  he  must 
be  lying,  but  that  there  might  be  truth  enough  at  the  base  of 
his  stories  to  make  them  a  fearful  warning  to  all  who  had 
ever  thought  of  tempting  the  field. 

"  Talk  about  the  chances  of  war  !"  the  incorrigible  romancer 
went  on — "  there  was  no  chance  about  it,  in  such  a  fight  as 
that  at  Fair  Oaks  or  at  Gaines'  Mills  !  We  went  into  Fair 
Oaks  nine  hundred  and  eighty-four  strong,  and  came  out  four 
— three  men  and  one  officer  !  i"  was  the  officer.  I  only  had 
one  Minie  bullet  through  the  left  breast,  too  high  to  do  much 
harm,  two  bullets  in  the  left  leg  and  right  foot,  my  left  arm 
broken  by  a  fragment  of  shell  and  my  right  eye  punched  out 
by  another.     That  was  all  that  ailed  me  /" 

"Heavens!  heavens  !"  was  all  that  the  stupified  Colonel 
could  articulate. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  Captain,  '-'think  of  being  obliged  to 
fight  like  that  on  two  meals  a  week,  the  meals  consisting  of 
boiled  horse  and  mouldy  crackers,  drinking  the  same  swam]) 
water  you  have  been  standing  in  all  day  !  And  I  suppose 
you  think  that  our  regiment  lost  heavily,   Colonel  ?     Eh  ? 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  455 

Well,  you  are  mistaken  !  We  had  the  crack  regiment  and 
Scarcely  suffered  at  all,  in  comparison  with  some  of  the 
others.  They  took  a  tally  the  day  before  I  left,  and  found 
eight  sound  eyes,  twelve  legs  that  were  good  for  anything, 
and  six  usable  arms,  in  the  whole  division." 

"  Oh  good  Lord  !  he  will  kill  me  !"  cried  the  Colonel,  start- 
ing at  last  to  his  feet  and  utterly  unable  to  endure  such 
torture  one  moment  longer. 

By  this  time  Frank  Wallace,  carried  away  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  lies  he  had  already  vented,  and  observing  how 
horrified  he  had  succeeded  in  making  his  auditor,  began  to  get 
a  little  reckless,  and  concluded  that  it  was  time  to  play  the 
indignant.  The  ladies  had  been  in  conversation  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  room,  the  elder  members  delighted  with 
the  new  acquaintance  to  whom  Emily  had  introduced  them  in 
Josephine  ;  and  though  it  may  be  supposed  that  at  least  two 
of  them  kept  their  regards  pretty  closely  directed  to  the 
"  military"  corner  of  the  room,  much  of  the  past  conversation 
had  been  carried  on  in  so  subdued  a  tone  as  to  be  drowned  by 
their  own.  What  followed,  however,  they  could  not  very  well 
avoid  hearing. 

As  the  Colonel  staggered  to  his  feet  and  attempted  to  get 
away,  the  pseudo-Captain  managed  to  crutch-and-cane  him- 
self to  a  standing  position  and  confronted  his  superior. 

"  That  last  remark  was  offensive  !"  he  said,  speaking  so  that 
all  in  the  room  could  hear  him. 

"  What  is  offensive  ?  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?"  asked  the 
poor  Colonel,  now  having  thorough  surprise  added  to  his 
other  emotions. 

11  Why  this,  sir  ?"  cried  the  Captain,  letting  his  big  cane 
come  down  on  the  floor  with  such  a  thump  as  he  had  observed 
at  the  hands  of  enraged  East  Indian  uncles  and  heavy  fathers. 
in  old  comedies.  "You  said  in  bo  many  words,  sir,  that  I 
was  a  bore  and  a  humbug,  and  I  do  not  take  that  from  any 
man,  sir  I" 

"  I  said  nothing  of  the  kind  !"  disclaimed  the  Colonel,  who 
certainly  had  not  used  any  such  expression. 

"  What  did  you  mean,  then,  sir,  by  the  offensive  expression  : 
*  Good  Lord  !  he  will  kill  me  !'     I  have  not  fought  for  nothing, 


456  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

sir  !  1  know  what  such  words  mean,  and  I  would  fight  any 
man  who  used  them,  if  I  had  only  one  arm  and  no  leg  to 
stand  on!" 

"  Captain  Slivers,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  you  are  unreason- 
able !" 

"  There  he  goes  !  another  insult !"  cried  the  disabled  sol- 
dier, partially  appealing  to  the  ladies.  Under  any  other  cir- 
cumstances than  those  just  then  existing,  either  or  all  the 
four  would  have  made  some  attempt  to  prevent  what  they 
believed  would  eventuate  in  an  outright  quarrel ;  but  Mrs. 
Owen,  as  the  hostess,  did  not  like  to  interfere  with  the  right 
of  a  guest  to  quarrel  or  even  to  fight,  if  he  thought  proper  to 
do  so,  and  neither  of  the  others  dared  say  a  word  for  fear  of 
forcing  a  betrayal  of  the  disguise. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  Colonel,  who  had  spirit  enough, 
sometimes,  as  we  have  before  seen,  to  grow  angry  and  be  even 
threatening  when  he  saw  no  personal  clanger  before  him.  "If 
you  do  not  like  that,  I  will  say  something  more.  You  are 
either  crazy  or  drunk,  Captain  Slivers,  and  I  do  not  know  or 
care  which  !" 

"  I  will  fight you  to-morrow,  cripple  as  I  am!"  cried  the 
Captain,  while  the  ladies  had  now  all  risen  to  their  feet  in 
real  alarm.  Then,  as  if  suddenly  recollecting  :  "  Stop  !  no,  1 
will  punish  you  in  another  way.  You  wear  a  ColonePs  uni- 
form— where  is  your  regiment,  sir  ?  I  will  make  you  join  it 
to-morrow  and  march  within  the  week.  Every  regiment  in 
the  city  is  to  be  ordered  off  at  once.  See  if  I  have  not  in- 
fluence enough  with  my  uncle,  the  Governor,  to  send  you 
packing  !" 

"Find  my  regiment  first — find  it,  sir!"  said  the  Colonel, 
now  fairly  (and  reasonably)  exasperated  beyond  any  recol- 
lection of  what  he  was  saying. 

"  Ah  ! — h  ! — h  !"  cried  the  Captain  with  one  of  those  tones 
of  stage  exultation  which  he  had  so  often  heard  proclaiming 
the  final  triumph  of  the  villain  or  the  discovery  of  that  lost 
will  which  was  to  restore  the  flagging  fortunes  of  persecuted 
virtue.  "Ah! — h! — h!  now  I  have  got  you!  You  have 
no  commission,  you  do  not  belong  to  any  regiment,  and  you 
are  subject  to  the  draft  that  is  already  ordered  !    Do  you  hear 


SHOULDER-STRAP  S.  457 

me  ? — the  draft !  the  draft!'1  and  he  howled  it  out  towards 
the  Colonel  as  if  he  suspected  him  of  a  rery  material  failure 
in  his  sense  of  hearing. 

Achilles  had  his  vulnerable  heel,  and  there  are  times  in  the 
lives  of  each  of  us  when  the  arrow  of  accident,  harmless  at 
all  other  periods,  can  enter  and  ruin.  Colonel  Bancker  had 
kept  his  secret,  or  believed  that  he  had  kept  it,  inviolate ;  but 
his  fatal  moment  had  come.  Whether  really  frightened  out 
of  all  recollection  at  the  thought  of  that,  terrible  "draft" 
which  has  already  twice  re-peopled  Canada*  at  the  expense 
of  the  population  of  the  United  States,  or  whether  exultant 
beyond  bounds  at  the  knowledge  that  he  could  escape  it,  by 
his  age,  in  spite  of  them  all, — he  uttered  the  fatal  word,  ob- 
livious that  Judge  Owen  stood  angry  and  astonished  at  the 
parlor  door,  and  that  others  to  whom  he  had  so  roundly  sworn 
that  he  was  only  thirty-two,  were  within  hearing : 

"You  meddling  fool ! — what  can  that  draft  do  to  me  f  I 
am  exempt  by  age  1" 

"  It  is  false  !  it  is  false  !"  cried  the  pseudo-Captain,  driving 
the  victim  to  the  wall  more  closely  than  even  he  knew.  "  You 
are  not  an  exempt,  and  the  Governor  shall  take  care  of  yoa." 

44  It  is  a  lie  I"  yelled  the  Colonel,  now  incensed  beyond  all 
recollection  of  time,  place  or  auditors.     "  I  am  fifty-four  !" 

"  Fifty-four  !"  There  seemed  to  be  a  chorus  of  that  com- 
pound word  coming  from  the  group  of  ladies  ;  and  even 
Judge  Owen,  who  had  been  so  solemnly  assured  that  his  in- 
tended son-in-law  was  more  than  twenty  years  younger,  could 
not  avoid  joining  in  the  astonished  exclamation  :  "  Fifty- 
four  !» 

But  the  climax  had  not  yet  been  reached.  There  had  long 
been  a  suspicion  which  almost  amounted  to  a  certainty,  in 
the  mind  of  Frank  Wallace,  with  reference  to  one  point  of 
the  gallant  Colonel's  personal  adornment ;  and  he  was  now 
quite  enough  carried  away  by  the  reckless  mischief  of  his 
nature,  to  determine  that  that  suspicion  should  be  verified  or 
disproved. 

44  Fifty-four  V  echoed  the  scapegrace.     "  Impossible  !    No 

*  March  20th,  1SG3. 


45S  SUOULDER-STRAPS 

Commissioner  will  believe  any  such  story  !  Look  at  your 
hair — not  a  thread  of  gray  in  it !  Bah  ["  and  before  the  Colonel 
could  make  any  effectual  attempt  to  prevent  the  movement, 
the  Captain  had  allowed  his  cane  to  fall  to  the  floor  and  made 
a  sudden  and  determined  grab  at  the  head-covering  of  the 
man  of  exempt  years.  Any  effectual  attempt  to  prevent  the 
movement,  it  has  been  said  :  he  did  make  an  attempt  to  pre- 
vent it,  however,  as  with  a  newly-awakened  consciousness  of 
danger.  The  only  result  of  this  sudden  throwing  out  of  his 
bands  and  scrambling  with  them,  was  that  they  came  in  sud- 
den and  violent  contact  with  the  head-covering  and  facial 
adornments  of  the  pseudo- Captain,  and  that  before  any  one 
else  in  the  room  could  become  fully  aware  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, the  green  patch,  the  green  spectacles  and  gray  wig 
which  had  metamorphosed  the  young  man  were  all  cleared 
away,  and  the  curly  head  and  bright  face  of  Frank  Wallace, 
printer  and  mischief-maker,  stood  fully  revealed. 

But  it  must  be  recorded  that  at  that  moment  no  one  saw 
him.  All  eyes  were  turned  in  another  direction,  and  yet  one 
not  very  far  removed.  The  sudden  and  vigorous  jerk  of  the 
young  man,  which  had  been  so  determinedly  guarded  against, 
had  yet  produced  its  effect.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  dark  ma>s 
of  hair,  at  the  moment  that  his  own  pushed-off  incumbrances 
tumbled  to  the  floor  ;  and  a  state  of  affairs  was  revealed  on 
the  cranium  of  the  Colonel,  for  which  not  more  than  one  of 
the  company,  or  possibly  two,  could  have  been  in  the  least 
degree  prepared.  What  Virginia  would  have  been,  if  cleared 
of  all  its  woods  and  swamps  and  made  into  fair  fighting-ground, 
and  what  Virginia  is,  with  all  its  woods  and  swamps,  while 
the  Union  soldiers  fight  over  it  at  so  terrible  a  disadvantage 
— may  fitly  present  the  contrast  between  Colonel  John  Boad- 
ley  Banckers  head  as  it  was  and  as  it  had  been  sup] 
Not  a  spear  of  hair  on  it,  from  forehead  to  spine,  so  far  as  the 
eye  could  see  by  gas-light ;  and  the  head  one  of  those  fearful 
botches  of  nature  when  not  over-well  instructed  in  her  work, 
— with  the  forehead  retreating  like  the  roof  of  a  house,  and 
the  skull  coming  to  a  dull  point  at  the  top,  like  the  end  of  a 
gigantic  cucumber,  and  glossy  and  yellow  like  that  cucumber 
ripening  for  seed  !     The  total  baldness  of  the  head  was  bad 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  459 

enough,  under  the  circumstances  (especially  for  thirty-two  1) 
but  the  shape  of  that  head  ! — oh  father  of  that  man,  what  right 
had  you  to  visit  your  own  sins  upon  a  succeeding  generation 
in  such  a  manner  ? 

Tho  reception  of  this  revelation  was  as  varied,  at  first,  as 
the  characters  of  those  who  received  it.  Frank  Wallace  was 
so  astounded  at  the  extraordinary  success  of  his  manoeuvre, 
and  at  the  same  time  at  his  own  detection,  that  he  dropped 
crutch  and  cane,  allowed  his  sham  wounded  leg  to  straighten, 
and  stood  holding  the  wig  in  his  hand  as  if  he  had  no  power 
to  lay  it  down.  Mrs.  Owen  screamed,  that  seeming  to  be  the 
duly  of  hospitality  when  such  a  breach  of  good  manners  had 
been  committed  in  her  parlor.  Josephine  Harris  paled,  flushed, 
and  finally  fell  back  into  a  chair  in  such  convulsions  of  laugh- 
ter that  she  cried  like  a  child.  Emily  Owen  tried  to  look 
grave,  but  looked  at  Joe  and  soon  followed  her  lead.  Aunt 
Martha  happened  to  have  her  handkerchief  in  her  hand,  and 
stuffed  it  into  her  mouth  so  tightly  that  she  came  near  suffo- 
cating. Judge  Owen  still  stood  in  the  door-way,  his  face  ju- 
dicially severe  and  portentous,  as  if  he  felt  that  some  awful 
desecration  had  been  committed,  for  which  the  full  severity  of 
the  criminal  law  could  scarcely  be  an  adequate  punishment. 

Not  an  instant,  however,  before  the  two  young  girls  found 
recruits  for  their  "  forward  movement."  Aim  £  Martha's  hand- 
kerchief flew  from  her  mouth,  and  she  laughed  from  cap  to 
slipper.  Mrs.  Owen,  thus  deserted  by  her  reserve,  caught  the 
infection  and  laughed  still  louder  than  Aunt  Martha.  Frank 
Wallace  directly  came  in  with  a  baritone  which  chimed  well 
with  the  soprano  of  the  young  girls  and  the  contralto  of  the 
middle-aged  ladies.  And  Judge  Owen,  at  last,  having  satis- 
fied his  judicial  dignity  by  keeping  his  gravity  longer  than 
any  one  else,  rung  in  with  a  gruff  heavy  bass  that  might  have 
been  contracted  for  in  the  damp  vault  of  his  own  court-room. 

There  are  said  to  be  some  occasions  in  which  the  highest 
order  of  eloquence  is  shown  in  total  silence,  and  others  in 
which  the  most  indomitable  bravery  is  shown  by  immediately 
running  away.  Certainly  this  was  an  Opportunity  for  the 
display  of  the  latter  quality.  Just  when  the  laugh  had 
fairly  burst,  Colonel  John  Boadlcy  Bancker  clapped  his  hand 
29 


460  SHOULDfiR-STRAPS. 

to  his  head,  satisfied  himself  that  the  catastrophe  had  really 
occurred,  then  made  a  grab  at  the  wig  and  caught  it  out  of 
the  hands  of  his  tormentor,  took  three  steps  out  of  the  room 
to  the  hat-rack  in  the  hall,  and  a  few  more  out  into  the  bright 
moonlight.     Napoleon  had  left  Waterloo  1 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


The  Last  Tit-bits  of  the  Banquet — Subsequent  Events 
in  the  Histories  of  Different  Characters — A  Ca- 
valry Charge  at  Antietam — And  the  End. 

When  the  banquet  is  over,  whether  the  guests  have  been 
fully  satisfied  or  the  opposite,  there  may  still  remain  a  few 
trifles  which  must  be  discussed,  if  the  proper  respect  is  to  be 
shown  to  each  other  and  the  entertainer.  When  a  story  is 
almost  ended,  there  may  still  remain  a  fragmentary  portion, 
perhaps  not  altogether  worthy  of  attention  from  those  who 
have  so  far  followed  the  fortunes  of  the  different  personages 
involved,  and  yet  impossible  to  ignore  without  manifesting  a 
disregard  of  the  whole  entertainment.  To  that  stage  this 
narrative  has  reached,  and  all  that  remains  is  a  hasty  group- 
ing together  of  those  closing  events  for  which  all  that  have 
preceded  them  would  seem  to  have  been  intended  by  the 
fates  that  overruled  them. 


It  will  be  rememoered  that  Josephine  Harris,  when  first 
recovered  from  the  disappointment  of  Richard  Crawford's 
absence  from  the  city,  penned  a  letter  and  mailed  it  to 
Niagara,  giving  him  a  rapid  detail  of  all  that  she  had  been 
doing  in  his  behalf — of  events  at  West  Falls — and  of  the 
absolute  necessity  that  he  should  at  once  apply  some  of  his 
marvellously  recovered  strength  to  the  purposes  of  a  journey 
thither.     That  letter,  which  should  have  reached  Niagara  as 


fc>  11  O  (J  L  D  K  R  -  S  T  R  A  I>  S.  461 

soon  as  the  travellers  themselves,  suffered  the  fate  of  many 
letters  that  are  sent  upon  matters  of  life  and  death  with  the 
magic  word  "  haste"  in  the  lower  left-hand  corner ;  and  was 
not  delivered  at  the  Cataract  House  until  Saturday  morning. 
Perhaps  it  was  quite  as  well  that  the  detention  had  occurred 
on  the  road,  for  by  that  means  the  partially-recovered  inva- 
lid was  spared  two  excitements  in  one  day,  which  might 
have  seriously  prostrated  him. 

Even  as  it  was,  the  shock  was  a  sudden  and  hazardous 
one,  to  a  system  no  more  thoroughly  restored  than  Richard 
Crawford's.     He  received  that  letter  on  Saturday  morning, 
with  several  others  from  the  city,  and  went  up  to.  his  own 
room  to  read  them.     From  prudential  reasons,  Bell,  on  the 
disappearance   of  Marion   Hobart,   had   taken   the   vacated 
room,  adjoining  that  of  her  brother ;  and  when  he  had  been 
for  a  few  moments  alone  after  his   return  from  the  hotel 
"  post-office,"  she  was  startled  by  what  seemed  to  be  a  groan 
issuing  from  his  room.     Instantly  running  to  the  door  and 
tapping,  when  she  entered  she  found  him  sitting  on  the  side 
of  the  bed,  white  as  the  counterpane  that  covered  it,  and 
breathing  heavily.     She  flew  at  once  to  his  side,  applied  the 
restoratives  at  hand,  and  had  the  joy  of  seeing  him  almost 
instantly  recover  breath  and  voice.     Then  it  was  that  she 
observed  that  he  held  a  letter  in  his  hand,  and  that  letter  he 
tendered    her.      She    read,    and    her   own    excitement   was 
scarcely  less  than  that  of  her  brother.     Now  for  the  first 
time  she  understood  the  strange  words  with  reference  to  the 
destinies  of  her  family,  which  had  been  uttered  by  the  sybil, 
and  which  had  done  so  much  to  change  the  very  nature  of 
her  womanhood.     And  what  a  revelation  was  here  to  her,  of 
the  mental  torture  which   Richard  must  have  experienced 
through  all  his  long  hopeless  illness — of  the  uncomplaining 
patience  with  which  he  had  borne  what  must  have  seemed  to 
him  the  crushing  out  of  all  the  best  hopes  of  his  life — of  the 
murderous  depravity  which  could  exist  in  the  heart  of  one 
connected  with  her  by  the  dear  ties  of  blood,  and  daily  taken 
by  the  hand  and  trusted— and  of  the  singular  character  of 
that' young  girl  whom  she  had  observed  so  much  and  known 
so  little,  and  to  whose  efforts  seemed  to  be  awing  all  this 


462  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

happiness  budding  and  blossoming  out  of  the  ashes  of  past 
misery. 

An  hour  restored  the  equanimity  of  Richard  Crawford, 
though  several  would  be  needed  before  he  could  recover  all 
the  strength  of  which  he  had  been  temporarily  deprived  by 
the  shock.  But  joy  does  not  kill,  like  grief ;  nor  does  it  even 
enervate  for  any  long  period.  Only  a  little  time  elapsed  be- 
fore the  steadfast  lover,  to  whom  the  promise  of  joy  was  again 
open  after  so  long  an  obscuration,  decided  that  he  must  and 
would  be  strong  enough  to  ride  to  Utica  that  night  and  to 
West  Falls  on  Sunday  morning.  He  could  not  be  allowed 
to  go  alone,  and  of  course  Bell,  who  would  not  dissuade  him, 
had  no  alternative  but  to  accompany  him  .  "With  a  few  words 
of  apology  to  Walter  Harding,  for  thus  making  a  last  break 
into  what  would  otherwise  have  been  a  pleasant  sojourn  of 
some  days  at  the  Falls,  and  leaving  him  entirely  alone, — 
but  with  the  explanation  that  family  affairs  of  the  gravest  im- 
portance demanded  their  presence  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Utica, — they  left  Niagara  on  Saturday  afternoon,  slept  a  por- 
tion of  the  night  at  Utica,  and  reached  West  Falls  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  Twelfth — a  week  from  that  eventful  Sunday  on 
which  the  destinies  of  the  whole  Crawford  family  seemed  to 
have  been  played  for,  lost  and  won,  in  the  little  parlor  of  Aunt 
Betsey  Halstead. 

It  is  an  old  story  which  can  never  be  told  over  half  so  well 
as  it  can  be  acted — that  of  the  meeting  of  lovers  who  have 
been  once  estranged  by  wrong  or  misunderstanding.  It 
was  a  trying  moment  when  Mary  Crawford,  altogether  igno- 
rant of  the  time  of  his  coming,  even  if  he  would  ever  again 
come  at  all, — was  called  to  meet  the  man  whom  she  had  so 
wronged  and  misunderstood.  But  how  to  perform  the  rites 
of  reconciliation,  is  one  of  the  sublime  mysteries  which  Nature 
teaches  when  she  gives  us  the  other  holy  lessons  of  love  ;  and 
who  doubts  that  the  cousin-lovers  clasped  each  other  more 
fondly,  and  with  a  better  knowledge  of  what  each  was  worth 
to  the  other,  in  the  meeting  embrace  of  that  Sunday  morning, 
than  they  might  ever  have  done  during  their  whole  lives  if  the 
tongue  of  slander  and  the  hand  of  injustice  had  not  come'tem- 
porarily  between  them  ? 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  463 

Their  connection  with  this  narration  closes  here.  Poor  old 
John  Crawtord  is  yet  living,  though  dying  daily  with  weak- 
ness and  the  gradual  wearing  away  of  the  very  power  of  life. 
Mary  Crawford  is  a  wife,  and  has  been  since  Wednesday,  tho 
twenty-sixth  of  November,  1862,  on  which  day— the  day  pre- 
ceding the  annual  Thanksgiving — Richard  Crawford  re- 
ligiously believes  that  he  repaid  himself  for  all  by-gone  wrongs 
and  misunderstandings.  For  some  causo,  with  which  his 
past  sufferings  and  his  changed  domestic  relations  may  have 
had  more  or  less  to  do,  he  has  never  yet  joined  the  army  of 
which  he  has  always  been  thinking  with  a  longing  desire. 
His  pen  has  not  been  idle,  even  in  his  happiness — may  not 
that  have  done  Ms  appointed  work  ?  It  need  scarcely  be  said 
that  the  friendship  between  the  people  of  the  big  house  on  the 
hill,  and  those  of  the  little  Halstead  house  in  the  village, 
though  for  a  time  interrupted  by  pride  and  neglect,  has  since 
been  more  warmly  cemented  than  ever  before, — and  that 
when  little  Susy  marries  the  engineer,  as  she  will  probably 
do  before  the  summer  closes,  there  will  be  no  warmer  prayers 
put  up  for  their  happiness,  than  those  uttered  by  two  who 
have  trodden  the  same  path  but  a  little  while  before  them. 


We  have  not  chosen  to  depict  the  storm  which  followed 
the  sudden  departure  of  Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker  from 
the  house  of  Judge  Owen,  near  the  Harlem  River.  That  there 
was  a  storm,  is  undeniable — such  a  storm  as  the  burly  Judge 
had  (and  still  retains)  the  faculty  of  getting  up  at  the  shortest 
notice.  One  of  those  blind,  indiscriminate  storms,  which 
having  no  justice  have  no  direction,  and  which  consequently 
hurt  no  one,  though  they  offend  all.  Frank  Wallace,  for 
daring  to  play  such  a  masquerade  in  his  houso  and  offend  a 
guest — Josephine  Harris,  for  being  an  accessory  before  or 
after  the  fact,  to  the  plot  (the  pompous  man  never  knew 
which) — Emily  for  having  been  always  a  disobedient  daughter 
and  a  disgrace  to  the  family,  this  event  being  another  of  the 
abundant  proofs  thereof — Mrs.  Owen  and  Aunt  Martha  for 
daring  to  live  in  the  same  house  where  such  things  were  about 


464  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

to  occur,  without  preventing  them,  whether  they  knew  of  the 
arrangement  or  not, — all  received  their  share  in  this  blast  of 
denunciation ;  and  yet,  strangely  enough,  all  survived  it,  and 
not  one  even  quitted  the  house  in  disgust. 

Colonel  John  Boadley  Bancker  has  never  since  entered  the 
house  or  held  any  intercourse  with  its  inmates.  He  would 
quite  as  soon,  we  suspect,  change  places  with  Driesbach  and 
tame  a  few  tigers  and  hyenas  for  exhibition,  as  trust  himself 
once  more  to  the  tender  mercies  of  people  who  detected  and 
laughed  at  him.  If  he  prays  (which  is  doubtful)  he  prays 
first  to  be  delivered  from  the  wiles  and  machinations  of  a  de- 
mon in  petticoats  named  Joe  Harris.  He  does  not  wear 
shoulder-straps  or  a  blue  uniform.  He  has  not  been  drafted, 
and  probably  will  not  be,  even  in  the  new  eight-hundred-thou- 
sand levy.  He  is  said  to  be  still  speculating,  and  making 
money ;  and  there  have  been  rumors  that  he  is  looking  for  a 
"job"  in  the  operations  of  the  Harbor-Defence  Commissioners 
of  the  City  of  Xew  York.*  But  as  those  Commissioners  are 
well  known  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  those  evil  influences 
which  have  made  other  operations  of  the  war  a  little  costly 
beyond  their  return, — he  cannot  do  otherwise  than  fail  in  this 
instance. 

Frank  Wallace  has  not  been  banished  the  house  of  Judge 
Owen,  since  that  memorable  night  of  July.  He  visits  it,  even 
takes  Emily  to  the  theatres,  and  is  neither  insulted  nor  inter- 
rupted. It  is  supposed  that  the  Judge  did  not  rule  him  out 
of  the  house,  because  he  believed  it  to  be  of  no  use,  holding 
that  a  man  who  had  begun  to  come  in  disguise  might  continue 
the  game  if  not  allowed  to  come  openly,  and  that  to  keep  him 
out  he  would  be  obliged  to  remain  at  home  all  the  time  him- 
self, and  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  the  supposed  milkman,  the 
baker,  the  butcher,  and  even  the  man  who  carried  in  the  coal. 

It  may  be  that  after  this  lapse  of  time,  the  Judge  even 
tolerates  the  scapegrace.  Emily  does,  it  is  very  evident,  and 
as  she  has  never  since  swerved  in  her  warm  friendship  with  the 
wild  girl  who  arranged  the  masquerade,  she  is  not  at  all  likely 
to  recede  from  her  old  position  or  to  marry  otherwise  than  as 
she  pleases.  The  Judge  had  better  reconsider  his  old  deci- 
*  March  21,  1863. 


SHOULDER-STRAP  3.  465 

sion,  gracefully,  for  ho  is  certainly  overruled  by  that  "  full 
bench"  consisting  of  Emily  herself  (Mrs.  Owen  reserving  her 
opinion),  Josephine  Harris  and  Aunt  Martha;  and  Frank 
Wallace  will  "take  judgment"  some  day  before  he  is  aware 
of  it,  in  the  shape  of  pretty  Emily  Owen  ! 

This  is  not  a  clergyman's  or  a  county  clerk's  record  of 
marriages,  and  it  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  we  cannot  carry  out 
the  system  inaugurated  by  Southworth  and  followed  by  Wood, 
of  marrying  off  all  the  couples  at  the  close  of  the  relation,  even 
down  to  the  footman  and  the  kitchen-girl.  If  we  put  them 
en  train  for  that  pleasant  consummation,  shall  it  not  be  held 
sufficient  ? 

It  would  have  been  one  of  the  pleasantest  tasks  of  this  nar- 
ration to  marrv  Walter  Lane  Harding,  merchant  and  good 
fellow,  to  Bell  ^Crawford,  much  more  worthy  to  be  his  wife 
than  when  she  was  leaving  the  couch  of  her  sick  brother,  with 
the  gallant  Colonel  of  the  Two  Hundredth  as  her  attendant, 
in  search  of  a  peculiar  shade  of  red  ribbon.     But  Harding  is 
a  man  of  mercantile  regularity  of  idea,  and  not  even  a  nov- 
elist can  move  him  more  rapidly  than  he  chooses.     He  left 
Niagara  on  the  Monday  following  the  departure  of  Bell  Craw- 
ford and  her  brother  on  Saturday,  but  business  may  have  had 
more  to  do  with  his  return  to  this  city  than  any  outsider  can 
know      He  has  since  been  very  much  in  her  society,  and 
friends  believe  that  they  arc  sincerely  attached  to  each  other. 
It  is  highly  probable  that  they  will  be  at  Kittatinny  or  the 
White  Mountains  together,  during  the  summer ;  and  a  mar- 
riage between  them,  which  is  one  of  the  eventual  certainties, 
may  take  place  at  a  moment  when  it  is  least  expected  by 
others,  but  when  they  (the  parties  most  deeply  interested, 
after  all)  happen  to  fancy  that  the  time  has  come  for  such  a 
culmination  of  the  pleasant  acquaintance.     Walter  Harding, 
meanwhile,  has  forsaken  none  of  his  old  ways,  and  finds  the 
«ame  pleasure  as  of  old,  in  the  street,  in  the  country  or  at 
places  of  intellectual  amusement,  in  the  company  (when  he 
c&D  manage  to  light  upon  that  ever-nusY  oerson)  of  his  friend 
and  companion  Tom  Leslie. 


466  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

It  has  already  been  said,  in  a  previous  chapter,  that  Tom 
Leslie  and  John  Crawford  left  the  Cataract  House  within  an 
hour  after  the  discovery  of  the  abduction  of  Marion  Hobart, 
taking  carriage  into  Canada.  Perhaps  neither  of  the  two 
knew  precisely  what  was  his  motive  in  the  pursuit,  except  the 
one  before  named — curiosity.  If  Crawford  felt  that  he  had 
a  duty  to  the  young  Virginian  girl,  and  some  claim  upon  her, 
under  the  bequest  of  her  dying  grandfather,  he  was  yet  fully 
satisfied  that  she  had  left  with  her  own  consent,  and  that  she 
was  now  where  he  could  take  no  legal  steps  to  reclaim  her 
from  any  false  position  in  which  she  might  have  placed  her- 
self. Leslie  had,  and  knew  that  he  had,  no  right  whatever 
to  meddle  with  the  movements  of  the  suspicious  parties,  ex- 
cept that  he  might  have  obtained  some  description  of  Colum- 
bus' right  by  discovery.  However,  the  reasons  being  what 
they  might,  the  fact  was  patent — they  were  now  in  full  chase 
of  a  will-of-the-wisp  of  most  magnificent  dimensions. 

There  was  not  much  difficulty,  on  enquiry,  to  find  that  tho 
carriage  they  were  following  (Leslie  remembered  that  this  was 
the  second  carriage  he  had  followed,  in  that  connection)  had 
taken  the  road  to  St.  Catharine's ;  and  thither  the  pursuers 
posted.  Parties  who  bore  the  description  of  those  they 
named — one  large,  dark  man  and  one  very  small  lady — had 
taken  refreshments  at  the  principal  hotel  there,  two  hours 
before  ;  and  then  they  had  apparently  gone  on  to  Toronto. 
They  followed  to  Toronto.  Some  hours  were  spent  at  To- 
ronto, in  discovering  that  they  had  taken  the  rail  to  Montreal. 
The  pursuers  followed  to  Montreal,  and  late  at  night,  on  the 
day  following  the  departure  from  Xiagara,  were  at  Donne- 
gana's  Hotel.  Xo  concealment  had  here  been  considered 
necessary  by  the  fugitives,  whatever  they  might  have  prac- 
tised before  ;  and  on  the  register  of  Donnegana's,  Leslie  found 
an  entry  of  the  names  of  "Dexter  Ralston  and  wife!11 

"  Phew  !"  he  said,  calling  the  attention  of  Crawford  to  the 
book,  "they  have  been  rapid.  All  -my  suspicious  were  cor- 
rect, as  usual.  There  never  was  such  a  match  ;  but  they 
have  now  acquired  a  legal  right  to  remain  together,  even  if 
there  was  power  to  separate  them  otherwise.'  They  are 
married !" 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  407 

«  The  d — 1  they  are  !"  said  John  Crawford,  leaning  over 
to  examine  the  register.  "  True  enough !  Then  my  guardian- 
ship is  ended,  with  a  witness.  But  is  she  his  wife  ?  Is  it 
Marion  Hobart,  or  may  he  not  have  been  married  before  ?" 

"  No,  said  Leslie,"  remembering  the  picture,  "  she  and  no 
other." 

They  had  not  been  aware  that  they  were  speaking  loudly 
enough  to  be  easily  overheard ;  but  as  the  last  words  were 
spoken  a  well-known  voice  sounded  behind  them,  and  Tom 
Leslie,  as  he  turned,  saw  Dexter  Ralston,  cigar  in  mouth, 
coming  up  from  the  door. 

"  You  were  speaking  of  my  wife,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  as 
he  bowed  to  Leslie.     "  Well,  what  of  her  ?" 

"  If  your  wife  is  Marion  Hobart,"  said  John  Crawford, 
turning,  "we  were  speaking  of  my  ward,  entrusted  to  my 
guardianship  by  her  grandfather,  her  last  surviving  relative, 
on  his  death-bed,  and  stolen  away  by  you  from  the  Cataract 
House  yesterday." 

The  words  of  Crawford  were  somewhat  loud,  and  the  face 
of  the  Virginian  flushed,  though  the  office  of  the  hotel  was 
almost  deserted  and  probably  no  one  but  themselves  under- 
stood what  was  being  uttered.  "  Stolen  is  a  hard  word,"  he 
said,  after  a  moment,  "  but  if  ygu  are  John  Crawford,  who 
brought  Marion  Hobart  safely  away  from  Glendale,  in  Yir 
ginia,  you  are  licensed  to  say  almost  anything." 

Tom  Leslie  spoke. 

"  Where  shall  I  meet  you  next,  Ralston  ?" 

"  That  depends  upon  where  you  follow  me,"  said  the  Vir- 
ginian, in  a  tone  of  dignified  pleasantry  which  came  near 
bringing  the  blood  to  Leslie's  cheek  as  it  had  lately  been 
brought  to  that  of  the  Virginian.  The  journalist  shook  off 
the  feeling,  however,  and  laughed. 

"  Well,  we  have  followed  you,  of  course,"  he  said — "  per- 
haps played  spy  upon  you.  But  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  I  saw 
you  playing  very  nearly  the  same  game  on  Goat  Island  and 
at  the  Cataract." 

The  Virginian  echoed  the  laugh. 

"  Fairly  hit  back,"  he  said.  "  I  have  played  the  spy,  more 
than  once.     Who  has  not,  I  wonder  ?" 


468  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

"  What  are  you  to-night  ?"  asked  Leslie,  with  a  marked 
banter  in  his  tone.  "  It  is  none  of  my  business,  of  course, 
here  on  Canadian  ground,  but  the  other  day,  on  Goat  Island, 
you  were — " 

"A  loyal  American,"  answered  Ralston,  interrupting  him. 
"  To-night,  and  on  Canadian  ground,  I  am  a  loyal  Virginian, 
true  to  my  own  State,  first,  last  and  forever." 

"By  George!  I  thought  so  all  the  while!"  said  Leslie, 
though  there  was  certainly  no  anger  in  his  tone.  (It  is  a 
matter  of  doubt  whether  within  the  preceding  few  days  that 
young  man  had  not  found  himself  so  pleasantly  situated  in 
some  regards,  as  to  be  incapable  of  becoming  very  easily 
vexed,  even  for  the  sake  of  patriotism. 

"  We  differ  on  the  national  question,  and  I  suppose  con- 
scientiously," said  Ralston.  "  I  hold  the  extreme  doctrine  of 
State  Rights,  and  you  that  of  centralization.  I  am  a  rebel — i 
you  are  a  loyalist.  All  right — don't  let  us  quarrel,  especially 
as  we  have  been  friends  and  as  you  are  certainly  a  jolly  good 
fellow  and  I  ought  to  be." 

"  I  ought  to  hate  you  and  wish  for  your  extermination," 
said  Leslie,  in  the  same  frank  tone  ;  "  and  if  I  heard  you 
professing  the  same  sentiments  at  the  St.  Nicholas  I  should 
certainly  help  send  you  to  Fgrt  Lafayette.  And  yet  I  rather 
like  you,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  believe  you  have  been 
concerned  in  some  of  the  nests  of  secession  in  New  York, 
through  which  the  enemy — that's  your  friends  ! — obtained 
knowledge  af  all  that  was  going  on  at  the  North." 

"Never  nearer  right  in  your  life!"  said  the  Yirginian. 
11  In  fact  you  are  more  nearly  correct  than  even  you  imagine. 
One  of  the  reasons  why  the  Union  cause  can  never  succeed, 
is  that  the  'rebellion,'  as  you  call  it,  has  emissaries  among 
you  in  every  class  of  society,  from  the  club-house  to  the 
brothel.  You  will  scarcely  believe,  even  with  your  expe- 
rience, how  society  is   getting   mixed   up  !     I  found   Kate 

F ,  the  daughter  of  one  of  my  rich  old  neighbors,  seduced 

and  lured  away  from  home,  the  inmate  of  one  of  those  houses 
I  have  just  named  ;  and  as  I  could  do  nothing  better  to  relieve 
her  just  then,  I  employed  her  for  the  cause.  To-night  she  is 
asleep  in  this  house,  my  wife's  servant.     You  wouldn't  trust 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  469 

her,  would  you  ? — I  would.  But  you  need  not  suppose  that 
the  machinery  is  all  worked  among  the  lower  classes.  Don't 
trust  the  brown-stone  houses  too  far  !  We  had  a  brown- 
stone  house  up-town,  until  not  many  days  ago — " 

"Yes,"  on  East  5 —  Street,  not  far  from  the  Eastern  Dis- 
pensary," said  Leslie,  breaking  in  upon  the  Virginian  in 
turn  ;  "  and  another  on  Prince  Street,  and — •" 

"  Oh,  you  eeem  to  know  a  good  deal  about  it,"  said  Ralston, 
trying  to  keep  up  his  tone  of  banter,  but  his  voice  showing 
that  he  was  really  a  little  surprised.  "  And  yet  I  do  not  think 
that  you  can  be  altogether  behind  the  curtain  after  all.  The 
worst  foes  of  what  you  call  the  '  Union  cause'  have  not  been 
those  who  declared  themselves  secessionists.  Some  of  your 
leading  officials,  it  may  be  pleasant  to  you  to  know,  are  as 
arrant  '  rebels'  as  even  Virginia  can  furnish  ;  and  with  them 
and  the  correspondence  carried  on  through  their  offices,  we 
have  worked  more  effectively  than  in  almost  any  other  way." 

"  Yes,"  said  Leslie,  looking  steadily  at  Ralston,  and  with  a 
wicked  smile  peeping  out  from  under  his  moustache.  "  Yes 
— not  only  local  officials,  but  Congressmen,  judging  by  the 

conversation  that  you  held  with  the  Honorable , 

under  the  arches  of  the  Capitol,  the  night  before  Lincoln's 
inauguration." 

"  What !"  cried  the  Virginian,  for  once  surprised  out  of  his 
equanimity.  "  The  d — 1 !  You  know  that  ?"  Then  he 
laughed  and  grew  placid  again.  The  instant  after  he  held 
out  his  hand  to  Leslie.  "Leslie,  you  are  keener  than  I 
thought,  and  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  that  we  are  not  to  play 
against  each  other  any  more.  I  am  going  to  Europe  by  the 
next  steamer  from  Quebec.  It  is  late — I  must  go  to  bed. 
Let  me  say  good-bye." 

"  To  Europe  ?"  asked  Leslie.  "  Eh  ?  oh  I  more  ships,  cotton 
and  tobacco  loans,  I  suppose." 

"  No  1"  said  Ralston,  and  his  voice  sunk  into  a  low  tone  of 
concentrated  bitterness,  very  different  from  the  manner  he  had 
recently  displayed.  "  No  1  I  am  going  to  Europe  to  reside. 
I  am  done  with  the  Confederate  cause,  though  I  hate  the 
Federal  as  much  as  ever.  It  was  Virginia  I  was  striving 
for,  not  to  change  the  despotism  of  Lincoln  to  another  and 


470  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

a  worse  under  Jeff  Davis.  That  is  enough — once  more  good 
night  and  good-bye  !" 

"  Stop  !"  said  John  Crawford,  who  had  stood  very  near 
during  all  this  conversation,  but  taken  no  part  in  it.  "  You 
have  yet  a  word  or  two  to  answer  to  me.  I  charged  you,  a 
few  moments  ago,  with  the  abduction  of  a  lady  left  to  my 
care  and  under  my  solemn  oath  to  protect  her,  by  her  last 
living  relative.  I  know  there  is  no  law  here  in  my  behalf; 
but  as  a  man  answering  to  a  man,  what  have  you  to  say  to 
this  ?" 

"  Her  last  living  relative  ?"  said  the  Yirginian/as  if  he  had 
heard  nothing  else  of  the  words  addressed  to  him.  "  Humph  I 
as  I  said  before,  if  you  are  John  Crawford,  my  wife  and  my- 
self both  owe  you  much,  and  perhaps  you  are  entitled  to  be 
satisfied  before  you  go.  Come  up-stairs  with  me  a  moment, 
and  you  shall  see  what  foundation  there  is  for  your  words." 

He  led  the  way  from  the  office  of  the  hotel,  through  the 
hall  and  up  a  broad  flight  of  steps  to  the  next  floor,  the  two 
friends  following.  Turning  to  the  left  he  tapped  with  his 
knuckles  on  the  door  of  one  of  the  private  parlors.  There 
was  no  answer  from  within.  He  tapped  again,  and  still  there 
was  no  answer.  He  turned  the  knob  of  the  door  and  peeped 
within,  then  opened  the  door  a  little  wider  and  beckoned  to 
Leslie  and  Crawford. 

M  Look  1" 

The  two  companions  looked  within.  Two  of  the  burners 
of  the  chandelier  dependent  from  the  ceiling  were  lit,  and  a 
flood  of  softened  light  from  the  ground-shades  filled  the 
apartment.  On  a  sofa  at  the  left  sat  the  red  woman  of  the 
Rue  la  Reynie  Ogniard,  red  no  longer  now,  but  with  the 
matchless  beauty  of  her  face  displayed  as  it  had  been  for  a 
moment  when  Tom  Leslie  saw  her  unmasked  at  the  house 
on  Prince  Street.  But  her  dark  hair  lay  all  dishevelled ; 
and  in  the  eyes,  that  seemed  to  be  looking  down  with  a  fixed 
and  almost  hungry  expression  of  love  that  could  never  gaze 
enough,  there  were  traces  of  late  weeping.  At  her  feet,  on 
a  low  ottoman,  half  sat  and  half  knelt  Marion  Hobart — or 
she  who  had  so  lately  borne  that  name — her  blonde  hair 
thrown  back  from  her  brow,  and  her  eyes  looking  up  with 


S110  U  LDER-STKAPS.  471 

an  answering  expression  of  yearning  affection  that  would 
need  years  to  satisfy.  She  was  in  white,  and  around  her 
waist  were  thrown  the  arms  of  the  other,  holding  her  in  a 
clasp  of  agonized  force  and  intensity.  Neither  seemed  to  be 
aware  that  others  were  near — apparently  neither  had  heard 
the  knock  or  the  opening  of  the  door — for  the  time  they 
seemed  to  be  alone  upon  earth.  A  moment  Leslie  and  Craw- 
ford gazed  upon  this  picture  :  then  Ralston  closed  the  door 
again. 

Leslie,  who  had  for  an  instant  started  and  trembled  when 
the  picture  met  his  view,  as  he  had  never  failed  to  do  in  the 
presence  of  that  marvellous  woman,  uttered  no  word  as  the 
door  closed. 

"  Well  ?"  asked  John  Crawford,  to  whom  nothing  had  as 
yet  been  revealed. 

"You  do  not  understand,"  said  the  Virginian.  "I  think 
that  your  friend  sees  farther.  I  married  Marion  Hobart 
yesterday,  at  Toronto.  You  said  that  you  held  a  right  over 
her  by  the  bequest  of  her  last  living  relative — her  grand- 
father :  I  tell  you  that  I  have  to-night  restored  her  to  a 
dearer  relative,  in  whose  arms  she  lies " 

"  Her  mother,"  said  Leslie,  the  two  words  breaking  from 
his  lips  as  if  involuntarily. 

"  Her  mother  ?  Oh  Lord  !"  broke  out  John  Crawford, 
surprise  completely  overmastering  him. 

"  Her  mother — a  French  lady  by  birth,  and  something  of 
whose  character  you  know,  Leslie.  Her  mother,  the  re- 
pudiated wife  of  Charles  Hampden  Hobart,  from  whom 
Marion  has  been  separated  since  childhood,  and  to  whom 
you  unwittingly,  and  I  of  my  own  will,  have  just  given  her 
back.     Have  I  a  right  to  her,  now  ?     Are  you  satisfied  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  John  Crawford.  "  My  duty  is  done,  though 
I  should  rather  have  seen  it  end  differently.     Good-night !" 

"  Good-night  and  good-bye  !"  said  Tom  Leslie,  holding 
out  his  hand.  Dexter  Ralston  shook  it,  bowed  to  Crawford, 
and  entered  the  parlor,  closing  the  door  behind  him,  The 
two  companions  descended  the  stairs;  and  so  closed  Tom 
Leslie's  long  adventure,  which  it  must  be  confessed  that  he 
had  not  brought  to  quite  so  practical  an  end  as  that  reached 


472  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

by  his  female  counterpart  in  another  direction.  But  then 
who  ever  heard  of  a  man  managing  a  mystery  or  an  intrigue 
with  the  same  effective  dexterity  as  a  woman,  or  making  as 
much  good  or  evil  out  of  it  in  the  end  ? 


Tom  Leslie  left  Montreal  almost  as  suddenly  as  he  had 
arrived  there,  in  company  with  John  Crawford.  He  reached 
New  York  still  in  company  with  the  Zouave.  His  re-union 
with  Joe  Harris  took  place  at  that  auspicious  time  when  the 
comedy  at  Judge  Owen's  had  just  come  to  a  conclusion ;  and 
one  can  very  well  imagine  what  a  clatter  of  tongues  and  a 
ringing  of  merry  laughter  there  must  have  been  in  the  parlor 
of  Mrs.  Harris's  cozy  little  house,  as  the  two  compared  notes 
since  their  separation  at  Utiea,  and  as  each  revealed  what 
had  yet  been  necessarily  kept  hidden  from  the  other.  Mrs. 
Harris,  good  soul,  listened  to  the  two  rattle-pates  on  that  first 
evening,  and  laughed  as  merrily  as  either ;  but  after  a  time 
the  good  lady  stole  away,  perhaps  to  her  early  bed ;  and 
then,  strangely  enough,  tue  merriment  soon  ceased,  and  tiny 
were  silent.  Were  their  voices  only  for  others,  and  did  eye 
speak  to  eye,  lip  to  lip,  and  heart  to  heart,  when  they  were 
alone  together  ?  One  who  knew  both  passed  them  closely 
by  without  being  observed,  and  arrived  at  that  impression, 
when  they  had  stolen  away  from  Mrs.  Harris  and  the  Ocean 
House  at  Newport,  a  month  later,  on  the  night  of  the  full 
moon  of  August,  and  were  sitting  silent  together,  on  the 
almost  deserted  piazza  of  the  Stone  Bridge  House,  at  the 
extreme  north  end  of  Rhode  Island,  and  under  the  shadow 
of  Mount  Hope,  looking  at  the  moon  shining  in  placid  beauty 
on  the  still  waters  of  the  East  River,  and  thinking  of  Indian 
canoes  and  the  romance  of  old  history,  as  the  little  boats  of 
the  pleasure-seekers  glided  in  and  out  among  the  wooded 
islands,  and  the  shouts  of  merriment  rung  out  ever  and  anon 
on  the  night  air  from  lips  that  were  bubbling  over  with 
enjoyment. 

And  this  brings  us  to  a  matter  of  no  slight  embarrassment. 
If  this  narration  has  a  heroine  (which  may  be  held  as  a 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  473 

matter  of  doubt)  that  heroine  is  Josephine  Harris,  the  wild, 
impulsive,  loving  girl,  ever  ready  for  help  or  mischief,  whose 
madcap  pranks  have  played  so  important  a  part  in  the  for- 
tunes of  all.  And  if  we  have  not  been  all  the  while  entirely 
without  a  hero,  Tom  Leslie,  the  journalist,  cosmopolitan, 
lover  of  nature,  and  strange  mixture  of  boyish  gayety  and 
manly  experience,  must  supply  that  important  place.  *  The 
meeting  of  these  two  oddities  has  been  narrated,  and  their 
lives  have  seemed  to  blend  together  from  that  moment;  and 
yet  the  strange  spectacle  has  been  presented,  of  two  who  are 
talking  always  and  on  all  subjects,  saying  no  word  of  love  to 
each  other  that  reaches  the  pen  of  the  narrator.  There  is 
one  long  pressure  of  the  hand  on  the  first  day  of  their  meet- 
ing—one long,  confiding  pressure,  in  which  the  two  palms 
might  almost  grow  together ;  and  that  is  all.  Thenceforth 
they  belong  to  each  other,  and  yet  without  a  s.ingle  question 
openly  asked  or  answered.  If  the  narrator  should  be  asked, 
"Why  this  reticence  ? — he  might  not  be  able  to  explain  the 
restraint  which  holds  his  hand.  They  love  each  other  dearly 
— so  dearly  that  the  blotting  out  of  one  from  existence  would 
be  leaving  that  existence  a  blank  to  the  other,  for  so  many 
weary  months  and  years  that  the  very  heart  would  grow  sick 
at  contemplating  the  long  expanse  of  bereavement  yet  to  be 
travelled  over. 

But  they  are  not  married  ?  No,  Months  have  passed 
over  them,  since  each  knew  each  so  thoroughly  that  often  the 
one  speaks  the  unbreathed  thought  of  the  other;  and  yet 
they  are  not  married.  When  will  that  marriage  vow  be 
spoken?  To-morrow?  Next  year  ?  Never?  Who  knows, 
except  God  in  heaven  ?  Perhaps  there  is  something  in  this 
strange,  wild,  wayward  love,  between  two  who  may  not 
dream  of  any  reward  beyond  its  existence,  too  sacred  even 
for  its  words  to  be  recorded  if  they  should  fall  upon  the  ear 
or  enter  the  mind  of  the  romancer.  Neither  of  them,  perhaps, 
could  attract  a  love  beside :  neither  of  them  might  value  an- 
other love,  if  it  should  come  at  any  call.  Both  of  them  will 
be  Pariahs  from  the  caste  of  hard  propriety,  while  the  world 
lives  or  they  exist.  Both  will  chatter,  laugh,  weep  at  times, 
fill  unacknowledged  places  in  the  world,  and  weave  unreal  ro- 


474  SHOULDER-STRAPS 

mances  of  loving  mischief  in  real  life.  And  yet,  married  or 
unmarried,  they  rest  in  each  other — rest,  in  the  truest  and 
holiest  sense  of  that  sacred  word  which  almost  encompasses 
heaven.  Absent,  they  will  wish  for  each  other:  together, 
they  will  sometimes  forget  the  blessing  that  has  been  confer- 
red, to  remember  it  again  some  time  through  sobs  and  kisses. 
And  here  let  the  record  close. 

No — let  the  record  bear  one  more  important  suggestion. 
If  they  do  marry,  for  the  protection  of  society  let  conspicuous 
labels  be  pinned  on  the  backs  of  their  children :  "  Don't  let 
these  little  people  get  into  any  chance  for  mischief." 


John  Crawford,  the  Zouave,  returned  to  New  York  within 
the  succeeding  three  days.  Among  the  first  of  his  researches 
in  the  city,  was  one  as  to  the  state  of  the  bank-account  of 
Marion  Hobart,  The  account  was  closed — every  dollar  had 
been  drawn,  by  check  under  her  own  hand,  and  the  fact  gave 
only  another  proof  that  her  abduction  had  been  accomplished 
without  much  violence,  if  not  indeed  with  her  own  connivance. 

John  Crawford  rejoined  the  Advance  Guard  in  October, 
and  has  since  shared  in  all  the  perils  and  glories  of  that  gal- 
lant corps.  He  is  still  a  private — it  may  be  because  no  com- 
mission has  offered  on  such  terms  as  a  true  man  could  accept; 
and  it  maybe  because  he  believes  the  true  romance  and  glory 
of  war  to  lie  with  the  soldier,  and  not  the  officer — the  danger 
of  the  lonely  picket-guard  and  the  song  and  story  of  camp  and 
bivouac,  supplying  a  fresh  and  glorious  excitement  to  which 
the  superior  must  always  remain  a  stranger. 


From  the  moment  when  Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  left  West 
Palls  so  suddenly,  and  took  his  way  Southward  by  the  cars  of 
the  New  York  Central  road  on  that  Sunday  evening  of  July, 
he  seems  to  have  passed  away  entirely  from  the  course  of  this 
narration.  Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  he  has  passed  away 
from  memory  or  that  these  closing  words  can  be  complete  with- 
out a  knowledge  of  his  subsequent  movements. 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  475 

It  has  been  seen  how  calmly,  to  all  outward  appearance 
the  baffled  and  detected  man  bore  the  knowledge  of  his  ruin.' 
Ruin,  because  nothing  less  was  involved  in  the  failure  of  his 
plans.  He  had  long  been  embarrassed  in  money  affairs,  and 
for  months  before  his  business  as  a  Tombs  lawyer  had  been 
falling  away  under  that  worst  of  all  cankers— neglect.  Tho 
hand  of  Mary  Crawford  would  have  satisfied  his  heart 
and  her  fortune  would  have  repaired  the  weakness  of  his 
own.  Failing  both,  he  was  hopelessly  bankrupt.  The  Two 
Hundredth  Regiment  was  a  failure,  and  he  had  known  tho 
fact  for  weeks.  Perhaps  he  had  never  believed  that  it  would 
be  otherwise.  At  all  events,  as  may  have  been  suspected 
from  his  forced  submission  to  tho  unpardonable  insolence  of 
the  Adjutant,  he  had  been  deceiving  the  authorities  as  to  the 
number  and  condition  of  the  regiment,  and  applying  to  his  own 
use  sums  that  might  need  to  be  some  day  strictly  accounted  for. 
The  previous  word  will  bear  repetition— this  event  in  his  life 
was  absolute  ruin. 

Some  men  commit  suicide  under  such  circumstances. 
Others  make  one  more  and  a  still  greater  departure  from  tho 
path  of  honesty,  and  victimizing  all  whom  they  can  influence 
by  the  holiest  of  pleas  and  the  most  sacred  claims  of  friendship, 
flee  away  to  bury  their  shame  among  strangers.  A  few  find 
such  positions  the  turning-points  in  their  lives,  and  thence- 
forward  develope  some  startling  virtues  which  almost  redeem 
the  lamentable  past. 

Egbert  Crawford  had  proved  himself  a  villain,  even  as  the 
world  goes.  He  had  trampled  upon  the  dearest  ties  of  blood, 
and  been  a  constructive  murderer,  only  withheld  from  the  ac- 
tual crime  by  circumstances  over  which  ho  had  no  control. 
He  had  murdered  character,  and  would  have  murdered  the 
happiness  of  a  poor,  weak,  unoffending  woman,  who  had  the 
double  claim  of  youth  and  of  kindred  blood,  demanding  con- 
sideration at  his  hands.  He  had  trifled  with  the  publfc  ser- 
vice and  defrauded  the  government,  as  too  many  others  were 
and  have  since  been  doing  on  every  hand— draining  his 
Mother  Country  of  her  life-blood  in  her  very  hour  of  need, 
and  so  aiding  to  eonnnit   that   most   deadly  and   horrible   of 


476  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

crimes — matricide.  Could  this  man  still  have  one  virtue  re- 
maining ?     Let  this  be  seen. 

He  reached  New  York  on  Monday  night,  after  a  stay  of  a 
few  hours  at  Albany.  What  he  did  at  the  latter  place  has 
never  been  known  and  perhaps  will  never  be.  On  Tuesday, 
fur  an  hour,  he  was  at  Camp  Lyon,  and  some  of  the  other 
officers  saw  him  walking  backward  and  forward,  on  the  piazza 
of  the  hotel,  in  conversation  with  the  Adjutant.  Once  or 
twice  their  voices  were  heard  to  rise  louder  than  good-feeling 
would  have  allowed,  though  the  words  they  uttered  were  not 
caught  by  any  listener.  Were  they  haggling,  as  robbers  have 
been  known  to  do  after  successful  operations  in  plundering, 
over  the  division  of  the  spoils  ?  At  nightfall  the  Colonel  re- 
turned to  the  city,  and  Camp  Lyon  and  the  Two  Hundredth 
Regiment  saw  him  no  more. 

The  morning  papers  of  a  day  or  two  after  announced  that 
the  Two  Hundredth  Regiment,  which  seemed  to  have  been 
lagging  in  the  way  of  recruits,  for  a  few  days  before,  had 
been  abandoned  as  a  separate  organization  and  would  be  con- 
solidated with  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninety-ninth,  then  in 
the  course  of  successful  formation  at  a  camp  within  half  a 
mile  of  its  disbanded  rival.  With  this  addition,  the  One 
Hundred  and  Ninety-ninth  would  be  full  and  able  to  leave 
within  a  week.  The  Colonel  of  the  Two  Hundredth,  it  was 
added,  had  accepted  a  commission  on  staff-service,  and  had 
already  left  for  the  scat  of  war. 

All  this  Was  true,  except  so  much  of  it  as  was  mere  specu- 
lation for  the  future.  "Whether  the  One  Hundred  and  Ninety- 
ninth  did  profit  by  the  consolidation  and  move  within  the 
week — whether  any  money,  and  if  so  how  much,  was  received 
by  those  who  "sold  out" 'the  Two  Hundredth — and  whether 
the  One  Hundred  and  Ninety-ninth  (not  including  Lieut. 
Woodruff,  who  threw  up  his  commission  in  disgust)  entered 
and  honored  the  service,  or  was  yet  frittered  away  by  the 
gross  mismanagement  of  those  in'  command, — all  these  are 
matters  that  have  no  connection  whatever  with  the  present 
relation.  The  gist  of  the  newspaper  paragraph  was  true — • 
tke  consolidation  of  the  two  regiments  had  been  effected,  and 


SHO  U  LDEli-STRAl'S.  477 

Colonel  Egbert  Crawford  had  loft  New  York  for  Washington, 
on  staff-service. 

AYhen  he  left  his  legal  office  on  the  day  of  his  departure  for 
Washington,  he  carried  with  him  a  package  the  shape  of 
which  none  could  mistake.  It  contained  a  sword.  So  much 
any  eye  could  see.  But  no  eye  could  see  what  lay  beneath.. 
It  has  been  more  than  once  indicated  that  so  far  as  an  evil 
man  could  love  purely,  Egbert  Crawford  really  loved  1  In- 
little  cousin  for  whom  he  was  playing  so  unfairly.  Sword- 
factories  had  sprung  up,  since  the  breaking  out  of  the  war. 
along  the  little  streams  which  emptied  into  the  Mohawk, 
through  the  Oneida  Valley;  and  some  of  them  kept  up  the 
clink  of  the  trip-hammers  and  the  whirr  of  the  emory-wheels 
that  shaped  and  polished  sword-blades,  not  far  from  Wesi 
Falls.  One  day,  in  June,  while  his  star  seemed  to  be  so  cer- 
tainly in  the  ascendant  in  the  family  of  John  Crawford,  Mary 
and  himself  had  visited  one  of  those  factories.  Impressed  by 
the  intelligence  of  his  remarks  on  the  manufacture,  and  per- 
haps willing  to  curry  favor  with  the  commander  of  a  regi- 
ment just  going  into  the  field,  the  superintendent  of  the 
sword-factory  had  presented  the  officer  with  a  splendid  plain 
light-cavalry  sabre  with  its  brazen  hilt  and  heavy  steel  scab- 
bard— a  most  deadly  and  effective  weapon,  upon  which  one 
could  depend  in  battle  almost  as  well  as  upon  the  best  blade 
forged  in  Damascus.  That  sword  Mary  had  carried  home  in 
her  own  hands,  presenting  it  to  him  afterwards,  in  a  moment 
of  good  feeling,  with  a  playful  word  of  confidence  in  his  valor, 
which  he  had  never  forgotten.  That  blade,  hallowed  by  tin; 
little  hand  of  Mary  Crawford  which  had  once  pressed  its  hilt, 
was  the  one  which  he  carried  with  him  that  day  as  he  left  his 
office  for  no  imaginary  "  field,?'  but  one  of  bloody  reality. 

Would  he  have  been  superstitious  enough  to  connect  the 
fact  with  his  own  past  or  future  fate,  had  ho  known  that 
Aunt  Synchy,  the  old  Obi  woman  of  Thomas  Street,  was 
that  very  day  lying  dead  on  the  floor  of  her  miserable  room, 
having  had  a  dose  of  one  of  her  own  insidious  poisons  admin- 
istered in  her  tea  by  Master  Jelly,  who  had  become  almost 
too  much  of  an  expert  in  the  art,— because  she  would  not 
allow  him  the  extravagance  of  a  whole  penny  to  buy  a  top? 


478  SHOULDEK-S  T  U  A  1»  S. 

Josephine  Harris,  painfully  correct  in  her  general  esti- 
mation of  the  character  of  Egbert  Crawford,  had  pronounced 
him,  in  addition  to  his  other  vices,  "  a  coward,"  and  "  amount- 
ing to  nothing,  as  a  soldier,  except  his  shoulder-straps  and 
sword-belts."  She  "did  not  believe  that  he  would  ever  go 
to  the  war."  How  very  easily,  seeing  one  half  the  truth,  we 
can  overleap  too  much  intervening  space  and  falsify  the 
remaining  half!  Egbert  Crawford  did  u  go  to  the  war,"  and 
under  such  circumstances  that  his  "  shoulder-straps"  and 
"  sword-belts"  counted  for  very  little  in  comparison  with 
himself.  Three  days  after  he  left  New  York,  he  joined  the 
army  at  Harrison's  Landing,  as  a  volunteer  aid-de-camp  to 
any  officer  who  needed  rough-riding  and  sharp  fighting.  Ho 
was  a  dashing  rider — thanks  to  the  education  received  many 
years  before  in  the  country,  and  the  steadiness  with  which  ho 
had  since  kept  up  the  habit  of  riding,  at  an  expenditure  of 
time  and  money  which  he  could  ill  afford.  He  bore  excellent 
endorsements  from  Albany  and  New  York,  and  he  had  lately 
held  a  commission  as  Colonel.  Besides  these  advantages, 
Hooker  saw  something  in  the  dark  face  of  the  lawyer — some- 
thing in  the  set  lips  and  clouded  brow,  which  while  it  might 
not  have  commanded  confidence  in  the  selection  of  an  agent 
to  be  specially  trusted  in  matters  of  delicate  issue,  told  that 
there  was  desperation  and  fight.  He  joined  the  staff  of  that 
General,  with  the  honorary  rank  of  Captain. 

Then  followed  that  terrible  blunder  which  removed  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  from  the  James  River,  unloosed  the 
grasp  of  the  Federals  from  the  very  throat  of  the  rebel  power, 
and  re-opened  the  Pandora's  Box  of  incursion  which  had  been 
almost  closed  by  the  investiture  of  Richmond.  Then  fol- 
lowed the  still  more  terrible  blunder  of  the  appointment  of 
Pope  to  the  leading  command,  and  the  commencement  of  that 
chain  of  disasters  which  culminated  in  the  disgraceful  retreat 
of  the  Union  forces  towards  Washington,  after  the  second 
battle  of  Bull  Run,  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  August — a  retreat 
which  was  only  checked  by  the  momentary  return  of  the 
"  young  Napoleon"  from  his  temporary  Elba,  and  a  demorali- 
zation which  was  only  forgotten  when  the  Potomac  army, 
once  more  re-organized  under  the  old  commander,  moved  up 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  47(J 

into  Maryland  to  break  the  threatened  invasion  of  the  Middle 
States. 

The  young  aid-de-camp  proved  himself  a  man  and  a  soldier, 
how  ever  raw  and  unaccustomed,  in  the  removal  from  Har- 
rison's Landing  and  the  disastrous  fights  of  Pope's  campaign ; 
but  there  was  little  opportunity,  indeed,  for  dash  amid  de- 
moralization. And  so  matters  passed  rapidly  on  until  the 
morning  of  Antietam.  One  of  the  captains  of  General 
Pleasanton's  cavalry  fell  at  Sharpsburg,  leaving  a  vacancy 
which  that  gallant  officer  filled,  by  General  Hooker's  consent, 
with  his  volunteer  aid-de-camp.  Mary  Crawford's  cavalry 
sabre  had  at  last  found  its  true  field,  though  he  had  worn  it 
through  all,  instead  of  the  more  showy  regulation  blade,  when 
on  staff  duty. 

Antietam  had  begun  to  thunder,  though  the  height  of  that 
terrible  battle,  which  up  to  this  time*  divides  with  Malvern 
Hill  and  Shiloh  the  fearful  honor  of  being  the  most  destruc- 
tive of  any  fought  on  the  American  continent,  had  not  yet 
been  reached.  One  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  of  the 
Union  troops  held  the  eastern  bank  of  Antietam  Creek,  ready 
to  cross  and  complete  the  expulsion  of  the  rebels  from  Mary- 
land, while  it  was  believed  that  not  less  than  two  hundred 
thousand  of  the  rebels  held  the  high  lands  opposite.  The 
slaughter  of  the  day  was  fairly  commencing.  Pleasanton 
held  the  upper  of  the  three  bridges  over  the  Creek,  that  at 
the  Hagerstown  road,  over  which  Hooker  was  sweeping  for- 
ward to  make  his  crossing.  He  had  been  ordered  by  Hooker 
to  hold  his  position  without  fail  and  at  all  hazards.  The 
rebels  seemed  to  be  in  heavy  force  on  the  heights  behind  and 
farther  up  the  creek,  and  evidently  they  were  prepared  t^ 
make  a  desperate  resistance  to  the  crossing  of  Hooker.  The 
position  of  the  cavalry  was  a  painful  one.  Hooker  seemed 
slow  in  coming,  and  shot  and  shell  kept  continually  dropping 
among  them,  knocking  from  their  saddles  one  and  another  of 
the  brave  fellows  who  were  so  chafing  with  impatience  and 
inaction.  At  length,  and  just  at  the  moment  when  the  head  of 
Hooker's  column  appeared  from  behind  the  woods  on  the  other 
side,  a  squadron  of  rebel  horse,  two  or  three  hundred  strong, 
arch  22d,  1863. 


480  SHOULDEK-STIi  A  P  Si 

came  into  view,  down  the  creek  and  a  little  behind,  on  a  low- 
plateau  which  stretched  from  it  towards  the  hills.  Tho  ad- 
vance guard  came  pricking  in  at  the  same  moment.  Pleasan- 
ton,  who  had  been  anxiously  observing  the  advance  of 
Hooker,  caught  a  word  behind  him  and  turned.  As  he  did 
so,  and  saw  the  rebel  cavalry,  he  caught  the  word  repeated. 

"Damnation  1" 

"  Who  spoke  ?"  asked  the  General. 

"  I  !"  answered  Captain  Crawford,  commanding  the  right 
company,  and  consequently  very  near  the  commander. 

"And  what  did  you  mean  ?"  asked  Tleasanton. 

"  My  word  was  not  for  your  ear,  General,  of  course,"  said 
the  young  officer.  "  What  I  meant  was  that  it  was  a  shame 
that  Hooker  was  coming  just  at  this  moment,  and  that  we 
could  not  have  a  brush  with  those  rebels  on  horseback, 
yonder." 

"  Eh  ?"  said  the  General.     "  What  consequence  ?" 

"This,"  answered  Crawford.  "They  brag  of  the  rebel 
cavalry — they  say  that  we  have  none.  I  should  like  to  try 
them,  if  not  more  than  two  to  one." 

"  Good  !"  said  Pleasanton.  "  The  right  feeling,  though  a 
little  imprudent.  You  are  a  young  officer,  Captain  Crawford, 
but  they  tell  me  you  have  dash,  and  that  sounds  like  it.  Dash 
is  what  we  want,  if  we  can  only  have  steadiness  with  it. 
Your  eyes  are  younger  than  mine — how  many  of  those  rebels 
are  there  ?" 

The  rebel  cavalry  were  now  within  four  hundred  yards, 
and  still  advancing,  though  at  moderate  speed.  Crawford 
looked  at  them  closely  a  moment. 

"  From  two  to  three  hundred,  I  should  think,"  was  the 
answer. 

"By  the  Lord  you  shall  have  a  chance  !"  said  the  veteran. 
"  You  think  you  can  scatter  them  with  less  than  two  hundred. 
Try  it,  steel  against  steel.  Take  two  squadrons,  and  away 
with  you !" 

"  Squadrons  on  the  right — attention  !"  rung  out  the  sharp 
voice  of  the  Captain,  no  despondency  or  vexation  in  it  now  ! 
"  Draw  sabres  !  Squadrons  forward  !  Column  to  the  left — 
march  !"  and  rapidly  as  the  words  were  uttered  the  movement 


SHOULDER-STRAPS.  481 

• 
was  executed.  Other  words  of  command  followed  and  wcro 
executed  with  equal  rapidity,  as  the  squadrons  moved  down 
to  the  left,  then  formed  on  the  right  into  line  facing  the  foe  ; 
and  it  seemed  but  an  instant  after,  when  the  concluding- 
words  rung  out:  "  Squadrons  forward  !  trot — march  !  Gallop 
— march !  Charge  !"  and  the  two  squadrons  of  the  light 
dragoons,  headed  by  the  new  Captain,  were  sweeping  across 
the  plateau  to  meet  the  advancing  rebels.  Their  long  line  of 
white  steel  glittered  ominously,  and  the  solid  earth  of  the 
plateau  shook  under  the  hoofs  of  their  galloping  horses,  few 
in  number  as  they  were.  As  they  swept  on,  coming  nearer 
they  discovered  that  their  scant  one  hundred  and  fifty  were 
even  more  fearfully  outnumbered  than  they  had  at  first  be- 
lieved; but  no  man  drew  rein  and  everyone  grasped  the 
hilt  of  his  blade  with  a  fiercer  determination,  as  he  drove 
the  cruel  spurs  still  deeper  into  the  flanks  of  his  flying 
horse  —  lacerating  the  animal  in  haste  perhaps  to  impale 
himself ! 

In  the  more  important  details  of  the  main  battle  of  Antie- 
tam,  this  cavalry  charge  has  been  almost  overlooked  by  the 
newspaper  chroniclers ;  and  yet  it  is  doubtful  whether  even 
the  Galloping  Second  when  they  dashed  into  Fairfax  Court- 
House,  or  Zagonyi's  "Body-Guard"  and  Frank  White's  "Prai- 
rie Scouts,"  at  Springfield,  displayed  more  of  the  true  dash  of 
this  undervalued  arm  of  the  American  service,  than  those  two 
squadrons  of  Pleasanton  on  the  little  plateau  over  Antietam 
Creek.  The  rebels  met  them  with  fierce  determination  and 
the  inspiring  consciousness  of  superior  numbers,  but  nothing 
could  break  that  headlong  charge.  Scarcely  a  pistol-shot  was 
fired,  until  the  rebel  ranks  were  completely  broken.  Like 
tongues  of  white  flame  those  fierce  blades  rose  and  fell, 
lopping  arms,  crashing  through  brains  and  emptying  saddles  ; 
and  scarce  once  that  theyroso  without  some  new  stain  caught 
from  the  reeking  life-blood.  Poor  little  Mary  Crawford's 
sword,  before  so  bright  and  spotless,  caught  terrible  flames 
of  red  in  its  course,  as  the  Captain  sped  onward  at  the  head 
of  his  destroying  angels;  and  it  was  only  when  the  rebels 
were  completely  broken  and  in  full  flight,  and  the  Union 
cavalry  wheeling  to  rejoin  the  main  body  with  their  Badly 


432  SHOULDER-STRAPS. 

diminished  number,  that  the  blade  so  bloodily  baptized  grew 
still. 

Crawford,  at  the  very  head  of  the  charge,  had  passed  be- 
yond many  of  the  rebel  horsemen,  now  flying  fugitives ;  and 
as  he  turned  to  ride  back,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  exhaustion 
and  relief,  two  or  three  of  the  escaping  rebels  dashed  towards 
him.  He  raised  his  sword  and  spurred  forward,  for  the 
moment  unconscious  of  personal  danger  at  the  moment  of 
victory.  But  at  that  instant  the  hand  of  one  of  the  rebel 
horsemen  dropped  to  his  holster — before  the  Union  officer 
could  meet  the  motion  there  was  a  quick  flash,  a  report,  and 
the  bullet  struck  him  full  in  the  throat,  One  gasp,  one  con- 
vulsive spouting  of  blood  from  the  great  arteries,  in  which 
the  whole  flood  of  life  seemed  to  be  discharging  itself— and 
he  reeled  in  his  saddle  and  fell  headlong  from  the  stirrup,  his 
eyes  already  glazing  in  death,  and  the  stained  sword  of  the 
Oneida  Valley  falling  useless  from  his  stiffening  right  hand. 

Let  the  Koran  be  true,  for  him  at  least.  Let  the  death  of 
a  patriot  soldier  on  the  battle-field,  when  striking  for  the 
perilled  land  at  its  sorest  need,  be  held  to  atone  for  much  of 
wrong  and  error,  and  even  something  of  crime,  in  the  past. 
And  let  us  say  of  him,  as  the  master-dramatist  says  of  the 
perished  Cawdor,  and  as  some  tired  reader  may  be  disposed 
to  say  of  this  long  and  desultory  narration — that  "  nothing  in 
his  life  became  him  like  the  leaving  it." 


The  End. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilrrifr 

808 


